


Just another zombie story

by Wloky



Category: South Park
Genre: Character Death, Coping, Death, Diabetes, End of the World, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eric Cartman Being Eric Cartman, Experimentation, F/M, Friendship, Graphic Description of Corpses, Immortality, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Starvation, Survival, Survival Horror, Torture, Trauma, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:18:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wloky/pseuds/Wloky
Summary: He kept doing chest compressions until he noticed the man twitch from under him. He let out a relieved sigh, the fact that the line was busy was so unlucky, thankfully he—He yelled out in pain, watching the elderly man’s pale face sinking his teeth right into his arm with surprising strength as he struggled to kick him off.“What the fuck, dude?!”





	1. What the fuck, dude?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arctic Monkeys - Crying lightning  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLsBJPlGIDU

**7:12**

Dirty, dusty old couch – Kenny watched the sunny color from it fade over the years into a moldy pastel more and more. Like its life was bleeding out from within the stains and holes it acquired from many loud nights filled with fighting and physical violence. Even now, he tried to listen to the tiny radio placed down on the beat up coffee table in front of him, but the static was getting drowned by his parents. He might have as well watched paint dry, but they couldn’t afford to paint over these peeling walls.

_“Reports have stated sightings of—”_

Was the last he could hear before the radio was turned off by his mother. With his cheek still in his palm, splayed across the couch his eyes drifted upwards towards one of the sources of his perpetual annoyance.

“Kenny, all the parents are having a PTA meeting today, I need you to pick Karen up after school.” His gaze softened up at seeing the little girl, still clutching the doll he got her five years ago and taking very good care of it, even better care than their parents managed to take care of them, but then again that wasn’t so hard to do. She didn’t carry it around everywhere, of course, she was ten years old already, but she did keep it in her school backpack as a source of comfort.

“Sure. I can do that.”

 

**7:15**

_“…76 injured, 58 dead—"_

“Poopsikins?” Eric turned his gaze away from the TV and stopped stuffing his face with a fistful of freshly cooked bacon for a second just to give his mother the time of day. He didn’t usually do that, but he was feeling rather generous today.

“What is it?” He only stopped for a second though, and the rest of his breakfast made its way down his throat right after that. For good measure, he tried to discreetly wipe his hands on his new trousers, claiming that no one was going to see any stains anyway, they were camo!

“I will be home late, but I will make a shopping trip beforehand. Could you put everything in the fridge when you get home?”

Liane Cartman was always a busy woman. Eric did not know, nor did he care what she did to make a living or where she went for it, even though he had a rough idea. It was hard to ignore when everyone made fun of him for having a crack whore mother since he was a child, but even that was normal since he always managed to one-up even her with his sociopathic tendencies. Both tried to make life seem as normal as possible, so he ignored the late night going out and in turn she spoiled him with good food and gifts.

“Yeah, whatever.” Eric nodded as he was going out the door.

 

**7:21**

Stan tried his best, he really did. Even now, that Shelly was going off to college. But that only made everything worse. Seeing as how she was leaving soon, she made it her life goal to make his life as miserable as possible. He paced around in his pajama pants up and down the hall, all until he couldn’t bear it anymore and slammed his fist against the bathroom door violently. Three times, for good measure.

“Shelly! I need to take a fucking piss!”

“So?” Came the voice from behind the locked door. “Piss out the window, you turd!”

He had to admit, that harsh tone of hers still scared him to this day. He tried not to get on her nerves most of the time, but even when he did it wasn’t like when they were kids anymore. He actually grew taller than her and years of playing football managed to harden him. He mastered the art of pretending like her hits didn’t hurt and well, eventually it became boring to her.

“At least give me my inhaler! I left it in there last night.”

The door quickly opened, shoving the inhaler in his face and closed just as quickly. He decided not to care this time and rather than arguing further, hurried to change his clothes, storming down the stairs, right by the running TV and out the door.

_“…outbreak in Denver—”_

 

**7:38**

Kyle watched over the scene of hectic running around the house and stuffing suitcases full.

“Don’t forget your charger.” He said, stuffing it into his mom’s bag, after which she pulled him down to kiss his forehead. Once he grew up, she had to start doing that, since she was especially short, but that didn’t do anything for his ego considering the fact that he was the shortest out of his friends. He still played basketball despite that, but it was more so for fun rather than for following a dream path. Despite Ike referencing some kind of basketball anime where the main character was a short guy, things didn’t work quite that easily in real life.

“The fridge is full, bubbala. I picked up your insulin too, and here,” she started, shoving batteries into his hand, “for your pump.”

“Thanks mom. Be safe on your trip.”

“Of course. You look after your brother, okay?”

“Yeah. Love you, mom.” They both waved their parents goodbye as they made their way to the car and drove off. They were going on a second honeymoon to Israel. Now, he definitely couldn’t say that to Cartman, he could already feel the Jew jokes coming. Right after they left, he watched Ike run out, heading for the bus stop and just as he was about to leave as well, he noticed Ike left the TV on.

_“…the government is advising you to—”_

The screen went black as he turned it off and headed out.

 

**7:50**

The ground felt fragile under his feet as he walked across the cracking cement, the sunlight burning it up to touch. The heat fucking sucked, especially since he walked around in the same orange pants and hoodie as he always did, although for a change, his hoodie was now tied around his waist, which allowed everyone else to take a good look at the neglected boy and for his best friend to make fun of him. Messy blonde hair, simple white tank top, some bruises which he refused to talk about with anyone. On these hot summer day, he looked like he got straight out of prison and they let him keep the uniform because he turned himself in naked. Sometimes Kenny even wondered whether he should get himself in trouble in order to have a proper meal once in a while, but he had important things to care for, such as his little sister. He was even going to apply for a job over the summer holiday to start saving up money – he would have done so earlier, if only people hired children, like that one Chinese guy at his restaurant. Whatever.

Finally, he raised his head up to glance at the other three boys already standing in line at the bus stop. How the fuck did they all always manage to be there sooner than him?

“Hey, Kenny, finally got out of juvie?” Eric snickered and Kenny flipped him off for that very obvious joke. He tended to rip at the same thing over and over again, just like he had been making fun of Kyle for being a Jew for years.

“At least he doesn’t look like a school shooter. What’s up with that leather jacket, fatass?” Kyle pointed out the outfit. Boots, camo print cargo pants, black shirt and a leather jacket to top it all of despite the sunny day. Contrast to him and Kenny, Stan and Kyle were the only two dressing relatively normal in plain shirts and jeans. Of course, to Eric that was boring.

“It’s fashion.”

“It’s impractical.”

And the two of them went off again, caught up in their own world of trying to one up each other all the way to the school. Just like they did every single day. Did they never get bored of that?

 

**11:30**

The bell rang for lunchtime as everyone made their way either outside or into the cafeteria. High school was a much needed upgrade from what seemed to be an endless middle school experience, but it was essentially the same. At least for the four of them. However, this time around Kenny decided to head outside.

“What, don’t have lunch today, poor boy?” Eric yelled after him, noticing how Kenny looked back, pulling out a cigarette and chewing on it slightly. He asked him about it one time and found out that his parents buy them anyways and they curb his appetite, which is why he started smoking in the first place.

“If you gave him some of your lunch, both of your weights could even out.” Kyle grinned, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand and enjoying the aggravated expression he just caused while Stan rolled his eyes.

“Are you two ever going to stop?” Stan asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in order to not get a migraine from the tension alone.

“No.” Both answered simultaneously.

He figured as much, and just as he did, a loud gunshot echoed the walls, followed by screams and a sudden panic, forcing them down under the steel cafeteria table.

 

**11:35**

The ringing of the music stopped in his ears as the track on his playlist changed, gazing ahead the empty road, cigarette nearly finished with a rather long set of ash still hanging on. He focused on it, waiting for it to fall.

 _Outside the cafe by the cracker factory,_  
_You were practicing a magic trick._

He was pretty distracted as a small, regular sports car made its way across the road, going a steady twenty miles an hour as it was driving on the school zone.

 _And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed,_  
_On the last of your pick and mix._

The music continued and Kenny’s eyes widened as he watched the car suddenly floor it and swerve into the nearest tree, effectively crashing and completely trashing the front hood. His cigarette fell out of his mouth before the ashes could and the song quietened down as he immediately grabbed his phone, dialing 911 and running towards the car. The line was busy, now of all times!

“Fuck!” Kenny cursed to himself, opening the car door and dragging out what seemed to be an elderly man, head first in the airbag and unconscious. He wasn’t breathing.

“Shit… come on…” Kenny then put his hands on the man’s chest, remembering his first aid class on the first day of high school, which he was thankful now that he decided not to ditch. He kept doing chest compressions until he noticed the man twitch from under him. He let out a relieved sigh, the fact that the line was busy was so unlucky, thankfully he—

He yelled out in pain, watching the elderly man’s pale face sinking his teeth right into his arm with surprising strength as he struggled to kick him off.

“What the fuck, dude?!”  
 


	2. Fucking school shooters.

**11:35**

The loud gunshot sounds continued to echo throughout the halls, fading alongside heavy steps and the screeching opening of metal doors from the cafeteria. The ugly sound they made as they fell back closed felt way more reassuring. Albeit, the three boys lying in a pile of bodies and the strong iron stench of fresh blood wasn’t anything pleasant. Eric could tell that some had more trouble than others with handling their weak stomachs as he slowly opened an eye and was met by the sight of Kyle scrunching up his nose and trying his best not to breathe. Hey, he could just leave him like this and sneak out.

“Fuck…” Stan whispered from behind them, pained expression clearly on his face as he held his arm – streams of red spilling down from a clear hole. That caught both of their attention and therefore leaving Kyle wasn’t an option anymore.

“Dude, sucks.” Eric commented as unsympathetically as he possibly could, to which Kyle made a face of disapproval, but he wasn’t surprised. Stan didn’t mind though, honestly, to him it was weirder that Kyle didn’t get used to the way Eric acted yet. It was like Kyle considered him his responsibility, he wasn’t going to get between that weird relationship of theirs though.

“I think the bullet is stuck inside… Let’s get out of here, before that jackass gets back.” Finally, Stan stood up now that the coast was clear.

“Hey, did you catch who it was?” Eric stood up as well, turning back to Kyle, who was moving the body of a girl that was on the heavier side, off of himself. Eric wasn’t going to help, clearly.

“No, I—” Kyle’s eyes widened as he held the dead girl above him with his forearm on her neck and other hand pushing against her chest. “What the fuck, dude?!”

The quiet halls were suddenly filled with groaning and screeching from this girl, whose guts were spilling out from what seemed to be the damage of a shotgun wound. She was completely pale and spit was spilling from her mouth, specks of it landing on Kyle’s terrified expression as she was biting down onto nothing but air and struggling to get closer to the boy underneath her. Eric and Stan kind of just watched for a second, mouths gaping at the freaky sight.

“Don’t just stand there!” Kyle turned his gaze towards his two friends. “Fucking help me!” The first one to move was Stan, grabbing the girl and trying to pull her off his best friend, but she wasn’t budging even as the two boys struggled to get her off. Stan wasn’t weak and neither was Kyle, this wasn’t normal.

“Cartman, help! She has retard strength—”

Eric looked around, seeing other bodies all around the cafeteria suddenly twitching and moving in a similar fashion, some even turning their heads towards the sound. Suddenly, Eric grabbed the arm of the nearest boy, who had been shot in the head, and put it right into her mouth to bite on. As she did, she let go and Kyle scrambled to his feet, grabbing Stan by the jacket before she noticed that what she bit on wasn’t exactly fresh. Eric kicked her in the head rather cruelly as she reached out for them. He decided on the spot that grabbing Stan and Kyle and fleeing out through the door, while tripping over their own feet as they heard all the shot students getting up and walking, was the best course of action as of this moment. Cartman brought out his phone once they were far away enough, checking the time.

 

**11:41**

Kenny grabbed the nearest rock off of the ground, chugging it repeatedly into the elderly man’s head, until he felt the pressure off his arm let to, but by then both his only nice white tank top and face were covered in blood. He stared in amazement, his gaze falling to the rock in his hand and screening the dirt underneath him. Other than grass and old cigarette butts, there was nothing else. He realized how lucky he was. His phone rang in his pocket then and he grabbed it, but his face lingered on the child trapped in the seatbelt of the crashed car, reaching out while growling. It was clearly dead, even though it was moving. Just like that elder. He quickly pulled his attention from that though.

 

[eric]: you wont believe wtf just happened

[me]: neither will you

[eric]: what

[me]: a dead guy just came to life and fucking bit me

[eric]: you were bit????

[me]: yeah

[eric]: dude youre fucked

[me]: no shit

[eric]: there was a shooting and all the dead kids just got up

 

Kenny’s eyes widened, glancing over to the middle school right next door, where his little sister was having a class right now. Or, should be having a class. His stomach suddenly hurt and he felt sick, anxiety rising. He felt like throwing up, he probably would if he ate anything that day.

 

[eric]: stan got shot

[eric]: we will wait for you at the infirmary

[eric]: I need your help

[eric]: we cant get out through all of them

[eric]: someone needs to distract them

[me]: I need to get karen out

[eric]: we dont know when youre gonna die

[eric]: Kenny?

[eric]: KEN

[eric]: …

[eric]: get ike too and tell them to hide out at my house

 

Kenny stared down at the cracked phone screen, with a bittersweet smile forming on his face while he was running towards the school, adrenaline putting him on autopilot even though he felt rather weak. He didn’t know whether it was from the lack of food he had or the bite, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t see anything else right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be longer bb


	3. They're fucking zombies, Kyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fox Academy - Choking on flowers  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTgquE5bA08&list=RDZTgquE5bA08&start_radio=1
> 
> you can only expect song fics from me

**11:43**

Eric put his phone back into his pocket as they arrived at the school’s infirmary, making sure to close the door behind them and push a smaller desk against it, just in case. He leaned against the wall then, sighing and looking up at the flickering industrial light against white walls that made the small hospital scene feel just a little bit more eerie than it already did. Fuck. Were they fucked? His eyes wandered down then, looking over the two best friends – they were always together, even though they were a bad match. Not a terrible one, but bad nonetheless. Eric noticed, growing up with them, that Stan was a little bit more emotional and on the shitty mental health spectrum, just like he was, and well, Kyle wasn’t. Kyle never could handle someone with intense feelings that he couldn’t logically comprehend, it showed in how he always left Stan to hang out with him and Kenny when that happened. That’s why Eric had to grin at seeing the smile on Stan’s face when Kyle was obviously worried sick about the gunshot wound, especially now that they all understood they weren’t going to see a doctor anytime soon.

He pushed himself off the wall after that, grabbing the nurse’s handbag and dumping all of her shit on the table, before grabbing the key to the cabinet and opening it just to take all of the supplies inside. Hey, he might as well.

“What are you doing?” Kyle turned around. Eric guessed he would have already yelled at him, but the situation got even him on guard.

“Taking all the shit, what does it look like?”

“We don’t need all of that.” Kyle argued.

“The walking corpses don’t need it either. Besides, we might need it later. Would you rather have it go to waste or get hurt and not have anything?” Eric counter-argued. He was right, while they had the chance they might as well take everything, just in case. It wasn’t like the school infirmary was a big pharmacy store, everything fit quite well into the handbag. Thankfully the nurse had a thing for big ones. Hah.

“Okay, well, we need to get the bullet out.” Kyle urged him as if he didn’t have another reason ready for him.

“No.” He simply said.

“What?!” Kyle whispered, albeit it sounded like a whisper-scream. Angry one. He got in his face with that pissed off look. Eyebrows furrowed and everything.

“We can’t do that here. The school must be fucking overrun by now. Taking it out will fucking hurt, it’s a bullet. Pain means noise, noise means zombies—”

“Oh my god, don’t call them that.” He didn’t want to believe it, even though one was right on top of him, trying to chow down right into his neck.

“Well, that’s what they are, Kyle. Besides, if I take it out now, he will start bleeding more and that’s a risk. We can do that and let him die here, do you want that?” It would surprise no one if Eric actually turned around and left anyone behind to die. That’s why Kyle hesitated, Eric didn’t need to help getting that zombie off him, he could have just turned around and booked it right then and there. It was more of a surprise that he saved him, even going as far as offering to treat that wound.

“I don’t.” Stan raised his hand which made both of them look at him like he just interrupted them, even though they were talking about him. Sometimes, dealing with these two while they were like this was like stepping onto a minefield, you just never knew what would tick either of them off.

“Anyway, in the meantime—” Eric opened one of the metal cupboards and grabbed a duct tape, ripping a good chunk off and wrapping it around Stan’s wound, just to minimize the bleeding until they got home. “Here.”

 

**11:46**

That was the time Kenny saw on the bright green walls of the classroom as he burst right inside, practically kicking the door open and making the teacher stop in her tracks of explaining whatever she was trying to teach at the moment, which Kenny probably hated anyway. The whole classroom was still as his eyes darted across the room, finally locking in on his little sister looking back at him in bewilderment. The teacher was quicker to ask questions though.

“Young man, why are you interrupting my class?” She looked rather pissed, but he didn’t care much as he went on inside, straight towards Karen.

“Family emergency.” He simply said, causing her to grab her school backpack before taking her by the hand and Ike by the other, who looked a little more confused as to what was going on and why Kenny of all people was here to pick him up. Thankfully the little Canadian was a child genius and skipped a grade, otherwise he would be wasting a lot more time trying to find him. Time was of the essence, they had no idea what a bite could cause and how long it would take to affect him. He just knew it would, he wasn’t feeling that well, it felt like his arm was on fire.

“Family emergency? These two children aren’t even family.” She argued, crossing her arms and expecting an explanation.

“Yes they are.” Kenny snapped back.

“Yes we are.” Ike confirmed. He wasn’t going to let an opportunity to miss school go to waste.

“See?” He dragged them outside as fast as he could, almost making the poor kids stumble over their own feet, before kneeling down onto their level and giving Karen one of those stern older brother expressions.

“Kenny, what’s going on?” Karen finally asked, looking up at him through her colored bangs, she was going to need to get them cut soon, he noted.

“Everything is okay.” He lied and she knew he lied not only by the blood spilling down his hand which she held, but also the wiped traces of red splatter all over his face. He put on his hoodie beforehand, just so she didn’t see the bite and get needlessly scared, but there was only so much he could do in a rush. Kenny then pulled out a key out of the pocket of his pants. “Here. You go to Cartman’s house and lock the door. Don’t open to anyone who might be banging on it or screaming for help, okay?”

“Kenny—” He didn’t let her finish that.

“Cartman has a key, don’t worry about that. Ike, your brother and Stan will come with him, right after you two. When I say don’t open to anyone, I mean it, alright?” Kenny looked pretty serious, so whatever was happening, Ike decided it was a big enough deal to take seriously too. The streets looked pretty empty right now, so Kenny wasn’t going to waste any time on explaining the situation, which would only raise more questions. Under any other circumstances, he would flip his friends off and first make sure to escort the kids into safety, but they were safer making a run for it without him at the moment.

“Now go.” He ushered them and watched as the two of them made a run for it. Now, onto more annoying matters.

 

**11:52**

Eric kept tapping his phone on and off, on and off, on and off—

“Hey.” The familiar orange hooded figure made itself known through the open, third story window. Kenny had always been particularly good at athletic stuff, especially climbing hard to reach places. He climbed the side of the school before, but died when he fell off once, so Eric noted that trying to jump out or climb down wasn’t an option.

“There you are.” Eric turned to him. “How long has it been?”

“Like twenty minutes.” He made sure to answer quickly and not give any time for Stan and Kyle to ask questions. They weren’t going to remember anyway. “I made sure Ike and Karen are safe. What do you need me to do?” Kyle was instantly relieved to hear that, otherwise he would have sprinted towards the middle school as soon as they got out. Kenny just managed to do that before him.

“I think they react to noise.”

“You think?” He was in disbelief. So they were having to go off assumptions today. And here he thought the great Eric Cartman and his amazing planning skills would have already managed to find a way to bomb the school while keeping them unharmed. Wishful thinking.

“Well, butthole, I didn’t exactly stick around hundreds of them to find out.”

“Touché.”

“Anyway, I need you to get out there and attract as many of them as you can towards the back of the school so we can leave. I will come get you after that.” Huh, pretty simple. And pretty reasonable too, at least he didn’t tell him to suicide bomb in the middle of them, but he wasn’t going to bring it up in case Eric decided that was a better idea.

“Wait,” Kyle interjected, “that’s suicide.” No shit. Kenny let out a little sigh, looking towards Kyle with a rather somber look. No shit it’s suicide, that’s the point, and even though he would like to side with Kyle and protect himself from dying today, it was a little bit too late for that. Too late to explain, too late to try and make them understand, too late to try and make them trust him on this one, too late to pretend.

“There’s no fucking time for this, Kyle.” Eric started getting annoyed, mispronouncing the name in a higher tone. He was getting impatient.

“We can’t just send him out there to get mauled by these—” Suddenly, the duct tape that was previously used to aid Stan, was getting aggressively wrapped around Kyle’s blabbering mouth. Kenny had to snicker at that sight, especially with how furious Kyle looked despite like a third of his face covered. He bet the fat ass wanted to do that one for a long time, and happily caught the tape thrown in his direction.

Before the boy could start ripping at it to argue, Eric picked him up over the shoulder and Kenny pulled up his sleeve to show the bite. Suddenly, the pale skin became a lot more clear and the deepened bags under his eyes started making a lot more sense. He wasn’t just tired, a lot more tired than that morning, he was dying. Excusing it as bad lighting wasn’t an option this time around. Kyle tried to reach out for him before Eric pulled them away to grab the first aid kit off the wall and hand it to Stan while putting the bag of medicine over his other shoulder. Eric wasn’t stupid enough to let Kyle go, he knew he would go after Kenny with that hero complex of his. Or motherly complex. Really, it could be either one, especially knowing his mom. Kyle knew he would too, as he watched Kenny disappear with wide eyes off into the hallways, head of messy blonde hair looking around and picking a direction. The door was shut behind him and he could only see a bunch of them follow through the tiny glass window of the old, dirty looking door. His heart raced as he did not hear screams, but very loud, albeit soft tunes echoing the walls.

_Inside your house,_  
_We've got a lot to talk about._

“No..” Kyle managed to squeak out and it made Eric’s stomach churn, but he pushed it down. Not like he was going to remember this happened tomorrow.

_Decorations that we found._  
_Instead we look around._  
_Instead we look around._

Kenny walked down the cold corridors, but it felt hot even as he took off his hoodie and wrapped it back against his waist. His stomach hurt a lot more now and he knew it wasn’t just hunger. Even his steps felt heavy and it was as if all of his bodily functions engulfed his hearing, his ears ringed with every movement he took and the realization of death glooming over his shoulder made him feel weaker and weaker now that the adrenaline rushing through his veins wore off.

_I don't mind,_

He looked up from the floor and towards the cracks in the walls above the grey metal lockers, they were so ugly. Why didn’t they ever, like, paint them or something? Thinking about stupid shit was what he tended to do while he was dying, his body started becoming numb.

_It happens all the time._

He felt limbs bumping against his body and as he watched the dead pass him by and out the door into the back of the school, he realized why. All he could do was follow, the phone in his pocket luring the rest of them outside into the warm sunshine. He collapsed then, falling against the wall and slipping down onto the ground. He couldn’t feel the grass anymore, even though his fingers gripped it to hold onto anything real. The last thing he managed to do was wrap his hand in the duct tape against the rain drain pipe before he breathed out painfully, head slamming into it and slipping with the rest of the limp body.

_Don’t decide._

Why did he always do what Eric Cartman said?

_It happens all the time._


	4. Hippies and their gay dogs.

**12:01**

The stickiness of the tape, the fleeting sound of a full volume playlist, the shoulder pushing into his stomach as his friends ran in the opposite direction of where they should be running – it made Kyle feel nauseous. His heart ached as he struggled and kicked, pulling his hands up and ripping at the tape on his face, ignoring how it pulled at the tiny hairs of his skin and the skin itself. When did they start making these so strong? He ripped his eyes from the long hallways and stared at his side towards his best friend. Stan looked… terrified and angry. Horrifying how there was nothing they could do but run away because their friend was going to die no matter what. Enraged for the same reason. He felt it too, beyond the feeling of cramps in his stomach, his chest was bursting. With more anger than he could comprehend, but he didn’t know who he should be angry at in that moment. Fat ass for using Kenny for them to get away? His best friend for going along with it on a spur?

…

Or Kenny for leaving outside to have a smoke?

A wave of confusion settled within him as they stopped and he finally jumped down, ripping the tape down and punching Eric in the face. The way he stammered back made him feel slightly better. Hell, it even seemed to be the only thing making sense in that moment and that was all he could ask for.

“Ow—Fuck! Jesus Christ, Kyle!” Eric looked back at him with even more irritation than before, but was caught off guard with the way those green eyes glazed over, the way his jaw clenched and the way his fist trembled just slightly enough to notice the little whimper of hurt he held back. It felt as if in that moment his emotions of anger became more. He couldn’t say anything more to that. Instead, he stepped forward and continued acting as if he didn’t see and didn’t care. He would rather be looking at the living dead staggering about in front of the exit. Kenny managed to pull a majority of them, but there was still a few dozen in the front, at least that’s what it looked like by looking through the tiny glass window in the door.

Stan turned his attention towards one of the lockers, recognizing the number on it, so he stepped towards it to fiddle with the lock combination. Sure enough, it clicked and there was a metal baseball bat stored inside. He couldn’t remember the kid’s name, but he stuck out to him as the only kid he knew who didn’t hate baseball.

“What do you see?” Finally, Stan decided to ask with his new found weapon in hand, just trying to take away from the tension in the air hitting them like electricity. He was upset too, but they couldn’t argue in the place they were in now, it would have to wait. As much as he disliked that. Kyle seemed to relax just a little bit then, if only to focus on the task at hand.

“Bunch of them still around, but they’re preoccupied with something behind the door to the left. I think we could sneak out if we stayed really quiet.” Eric turned around then, looking over the two best friends. Really, it was hard to tell which one was in worse shape.

“Okay.” Kyle suddenly spoke. “Sounds good, I just want to get out of here.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Stan agreed.

Eric softly pulled at the door handle then, pushing the door open as slowly and quietly as possible, gesturing for the two of them to step out before he followed as well, making sure the door didn’t fall in on itself and make a noise. So far so good. Looking over towards the left of the entrance hall, all of his senses were instantly on alert. It was easy to say they could just walk through when he only saw them through the other side of a door, but right now he was extremely anxious. They all were as they seemingly tip-toed their way through, staring at the horde rather than the exit. The stench of blood was… distracting, to say the least. Not just that, but also the primitive noises they made. Just loud grunts and moans. They were almost halfway through, but then—

BEEP.

Kyle’s eyes widened before his gaze shot towards his side, but within seconds he saw the zombies coming towards him. Well, more like speed-walking. He froze in place at seeing those dead eyes piercing right through him, but then he felt himself pulled by his hand and he regained his senses enough to follow and run out, run as fast as they could through the streets.

“Fuck! My batteries are low!” Kyle yelled out, not caring about making any noise anymore. He fucked up already. Fuck, he should have just changed them out that morning!

“What are you, a fucking Jew-robot?!” Eric yelled right back and despite the insult, Kyle couldn’t bring himself to really blame him for that. He nearly got them killed.

So he just replied with the only thing that he could amount to: “Fuck you!”

 

**11:58**

The children both leaned against the locked door of Cartman’s house, staring ahead towards the empty living room with big eyes and breathing heavily from both shock and running like champs. They weren’t going to admit that they screamed their lungs out upon seeing staggering corpses attacking someone. No. Some things were better left unsaid.

“Holy shit…” Ike managed to spit out.

“Y-Yeah…” Karen agreed.

 

**12:09**

The sight of familiar streets and houses felt a lot more sentimental as the skies filled with a grey and the sunlight faded behind the fluffy clouds of dark, loud thunder resounding throughout and the air filling it with serenity. The drop of temperature alongside the wetness of the chilled winds settled atop of their skin, but the barking of a dog coming from Stan’s backyard caught their attention.

“Sparky!” Stan immediately stopped in his tracks, running towards the fence only to see his loyal companion growling and barking at a corpse walking closer with each bark, someone didn’t close the fucking fence door properly again, he could see by the way it was pushed open just enough for the zombie to come through. The dog didn’t know what was happening, but even he sensed the danger he was in, only amounting to barking to scare the threat off, he didn’t know they didn’t feel fear anymore. He didn’t know they weren’t even alive anymore.  
“Stan, we have to go!” Eric yelled after him, looking all around the streets starting to fill with them, most likely due to the loudness of the thunder. They were already at his house, this was unnecessary and wasteful.

On a whim, Kyle grabbed the baseball bat out of Stan’s hand and jumped the wooden fence from the side, saving time he would have lost if he went around and through the door. It only took him seconds before he found himself beside the rather large dog and in front of the corpse, but this time the way it staggered towards him didn’t make him freeze in his tracks. Instead, as the skies screamed with thunder and a heavy rain poured down, he swung full force into the side of its head, making it fall to the ground and watching the blood spill out from a crack in the skull. But it still moaned and writhed on the ground, trying to grab anything, so Kyle lift the bat up once more and started smashing its head open repeatedly, blood and droplets of rain gushing and spilling over the soft grass.

One hit, two hits, three hits, four hits, five hits—

Stan grabbed Kyle’s arm as Eric made sure to close the fence properly this time around. Kyle stopped in his tracks, realizing that the corpse probably stopped moving after the second or third hit, especially since he went full force, so he kind of just looked over the unmoving body. This is what it should look like – still and unmoving, but from the shock of seeing them walk around it was… strange. It was even more terrifying to see that he put one down, it made the reality of it all sink in even further.

“Shit…” Kyle closed his eyes for a few seconds, reeling in the feeling of the warm rain soaking through his clothes and making his shirt cling to his torso. He tried to calm his breathing while Stan tended to his dog, making sure the poor guy was okay. Sparky whined a little to show he was scared, but cheered right up and wagged his tail like he always did once he heard Stan’s voice and the gentle hands petting him. Kyle then took the time to grab his insulin pump and screw it open with a coin, discarding the empty battery and pushing the new one in, he watched it go through a self-test before turning back on as droplets covered the screen. Thankfully he just put the batteries from his mom in his pocket, rather than his backpack. That thing was definitely lost to the herd at the school now.

“So that’s what that obnoxious beeping was. I didn’t know you weren’t shooting up anymore.” Eric commented.

“Yeah, well, it got annoying after a while. Anyways, what now?” Kyle asked, looking soaked and defeated in the pouring rain, but Eric looked similar.

“…There’s a generator at my house. That’s why I told Kenny to send the kids over. Power will go out eventually if it’s this bad everywhere, so—” Eric didn’t get the chance to explain fully, but Kyle understood.

“Okay. I will grab mine and Ike’s things. Can you help Stan with his?” Kyle’s voice was unusually gentle, it caught him more off guard than being punched in the middle of a zombie infested school, but… He liked this more, he thought.

“Yeah, sure. Stan, let’s get your hippie shit.” He spoke in a softer tone himself as he watched Kyle jump the fence to his own house. It was convenient that all three of them lived right next to each other, otherwise he might have followed Kyle instead – as stupid as that sounded in his head.

“Cartman? Are you okay?” Stan looked him up and down, noting how mentally fucked up the guy looked at the moment, even though he thought he would be watching him argue right now, just like this morning. Hell, he thought fat ass would be rejoicing in the end of the world and even throw them to the herd, not help them and invite them into his house – being the safest option they all had at the moment.

“Yeah.” Eric seemed to have regained his usual attitude then. “Yeah, hippie, let’s move it before your gay dog gets us almost killed again.”

 

**12:35**

Karen held the wooden plank in place as she watched the younger boy stand on the windowsill, hammering it into place with a determined expression. However, when the back door flew open and the sounds of the storm filled the room alongside heavy footsteps, both of them stopped in their tracks and realized they never checked that door in their rush to board up the place.

Both Stan and Eric stopped in their tracks also, albeit for the sight of two very terrified children staring back at them in shock while zombie-proofing the windows, they must have seen a few of them on their way here. Sparky didn’t care, Sparky happily ran inside and made sure to shake the rainwater off everywhere, all while dirtying up the floor with mud.

“Huh.” Eric looked around, seeing that they managed to board up seemingly every window on the first floor. It was messy, but it was something to keep them a little safer. Besides, he really didn’t want to see a zombie smashing its head through the window repeatedly. “Good job, kiddos.”

“Where is Kyle?” Ike immediately jumped down, clear worry on his face. Eric noticed at times that sometimes little brother acted more like a big brother. Most likely because the kid was capable of fending for himself and Kyle could get stupid and emotional at times. He put down the travel bags – one of which was filled with dog food entirely (which he considered a good thing, since it meant they weren’t going to need to fight off more crazy hippies at a pet supply store) and the other containing a few clothes and everything edible they could find at Stan’s house.

“He’s getting his stuff from your house.” He finally spoke, but noticed the untouched bag of groceries on the kitchen table. She must have went back out before she noticed anything. Bad timing.

“Well, I—” Ike already stepped forward before a familiar figure stepped into the doorway, two duffel bags in one hand and the metal bat in the other. It seemed that the rain washed most of the blood off. “Kyle!”

“Ike!” Kyle immediately dropped all his things and fell to his knees catching his little brother in his embrace, who of course ran right into it. He was so glad, holding onto Ike like his life depended on it, taking in how warm he felt compared to him. “Are you alright? Nothing happened to you?” He immediately pulled away just to look him all over. There it was, the usual protectiveness.

This time, Eric locked the back door behind them and stepped forward into the living room. Karen watched the scene unfold, not understanding why he locked it. There was someone still missing, so she tugged on Eric’s shirt.

Shit, he didn’t think this far ahead. He wasn’t good with words, especially not when those words had to comfort someone. It was a little different with Karen, he knew that Kenny would give him hell once he came back, if he even dared expose his little sister to his death, even if she didn’t remember it. That was the one thing Kenny never tolerated. What was up with all these overprotective big brothers? His older half-brother was a piece of shit. Well, maybe it was because he was his half-brother. Not a real brother. Yeah.

Finally, he got the courage to look down at her, staring into those annoyingly innocent and genuinely scared eyes.

“Kenny just had something important to take care of first. He will be back in the morning.” He didn’t really lie, at least not about the second part.

“Really? But… is he going to be okay with all those monsters outside?” Her grip on his shirt tightened, he could feel how cold her fingers felt against his stomach. She was more scared than she looked.

“Yeah.” His gaze softened, thinking back about every stupid thing Kenny ever did. “Your brother’s a strong guy.”

She smiled at those words.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if he can hunt down garrison, he can board up windows, fight me


	5. Your life expectancy sucks.

**12:45**

“Now.” Eric said before him and Kyle pushed a rather heavy bookshelf in front of the entrance door that would have otherwise only led into infected streets.

The back door was more secure, mainly because of the fence outside, but they still made sure to put a smaller drawer in front of it too, just in case. If anyone tried to break in, they’d know for sure by the noise. However, for the entrance they decided it’d be better to just barricade it off for good.

Without the lights shining inside, it was harder to see around the place as the shaded space drew out shapes and dimmed colors, but it felt a lot more secure. Secure enough for all of them to take a step back and assess the situation in a more relaxed manner. As relaxed as they possibly could get. Eric finally had a second to actually think about what to do next, looking over the room illuminated with nothing but a static from the TV – they decided to keep it on in case there were any news about the situation. He locked eyes with Stan. Oh, right. There was a bullet in his arm. In all of that panic, he completely forgot about it, but it seemed like Stan did too. Well, maybe not forgot, but he didn’t seem to care much after everything he saw and after everything that had happened. The poor guy was just glad his dog was okay and taking a nap on the couch.

Eric then squat down, just to be eye level with the two kids, one of which was hugging an old doll he vaguely remembered Kenny mention.

“Do me a favor and fill all the containers you can find with water before it stops running. There should be empty bottles lying around somewhere, my mom was going to recycle them.” The kids nodded and with them out of the way, there was only one person left to occupy so that he didn’t need to hear any bitching about his methods. Kyle stared back at him with crossed arms, that tension still present on his face.

“Yeah?” Kyle asked, knowing already by that expression that Eric wanted him occupied, but maybe that would actually help take his mind off of their impending doom for a few minutes.

“Could you make a list of all the food we have so we can keep track and ration it out?” The way he asked that question was much different from his usual attitude, usually he would intentionally pitch his voice higher to sound irritating and usually he would command rather than ask just to irritate Kyle specifically. The situation had all of them on edge.

“Yeah, sure. There’s something I’m going to need to talk to you about later though.” Eric just nodded to that and the fact that Kyle wasn’t screaming back at him either was unusual for his character too.

It was a bit unsettling, especially for Stan, who just watched them interact civilly for the first time in a long while. Sure, they had their moments over the years where they got along great, hell, sometimes it seemed as if they were even the only people in the world who could understand each other because they were so similar. However, something about the air and the way it seemed to drop to the ground felt definite and complete.

 

**12:51**

Stan looked over the counter displayed with all the medical equipment that Eric prepared, it seemed that he was actually going to try and do a good job.

“You know,” Eric spoke with a more disinterested voice, “we don’t actually need to take it out.”

“What do you mean?” Stan watched him cut the tape and rip it off regardless.

“The damage is done already, it’s not going to magically heal you when I pull it out and it might actually be riskier to do that. So like, possible lead poisoning or bleeding out, take your pick. I don’t think we will see a doctor anytime soon, still want to take a chance with me?” Stan actually looked surprised at how knowledgeable Eric sounded, but thinking more about it, it made sense. This guy knew a lot about the most random things one could imagine, all the way from Britney Spears to, apparently, treating gunshot wounds. If only he wasn’t a dumbass and a bigot at times, people might have liked him more.

“Dude, I don’t want a bullet in my body for the rest of my life.” Eric rolled his eyes at that, but decided to sanitize his hands and put on the gloves he found in the med kit before rubbing it clean with a wet cloth so he could see better and as he did, he actually saw the bullet sticking out just slightly.

“You’re one lucky motherfucker, Marsh.” He noted, putting pressure around the wound and grabbing some tweezers to start pulling at it. Stan bit his lip and looked to the side as he felt the harsh pulling on his skin and the nausea welling up in his stomach. Was it too late to change his mind?

“Cartman, maybe—” He felt a little bit of warm blood spill out over his skin again.

“There. Go rinse it out.” He looked pretty proud of himself, presenting the small bloody bullet to Stan as if it were some sort of prize. Rather than looking at it, Stan listened and leaned into the sink to pour some cold water over the wound. As he did, the hole left from the impact still looked bright red, but no more blood was spilling out, at least at the moment. Relief washed over him.

After looking over the bullet like a maniac, Eric rubbed some antiseptic around the area, but was careful enough not to touch the actual wound at all. He was much more quick with pressing sterile cloth on it and wrapping it up in gauze, than the actual pulling out itself, now that he knew he didn’t fuck anything up.

“Thanks, Cartman.” He meant it, which caught Eric off guard. People didn’t usually thank him.

“If it wasn’t sticking out, I would have left it in there. You were just lucky for having iron skin. At least now I don’t need to hear Kyle’s bitching about how I lied before.” And ready to lie he was. There was no fucking way he could have performed a surgery in his bathroom anyway. As much shit as they stole from the nurse’s office, they weren’t going to find any anesthetic and Eric wasn’t a surgeon.

“What’s the deal anyway?” Stan decided to ask.

“What do you mean?” Eric sounded genuinely confused as he read over the information on the Cefixime antibiotics insert, deeming it the right choice to push down Stan’s throat.

“With you and Kyle, I mean.”

“Same shit that was since we learned how to speak.” He really didn’t understand the question.

“Why are you two so obsessed with each other?” Eric actually stopped to think about that a few times in his life, but he wasn’t going to confess that to Stan of all people. It was bad enough that he needed Butters’s help with saving Kyle one time. He didn’t want people knowing that his life felt empty when Kyle was gone, especially not Kyle’s best friend, who would surely go and tell on him.

Wait, come to think of it…

“Where is Butters?”

 

**13:45**

Walking down the stairs felt uneasy. Every creak caused by his shoes hitting the boards even in a careful manner set him off, especially since everything was so quiet. He was half-expecting for one of corpses to just jump him out of nowhere, but the gentle clinking of a spoon against the sides of a mug reminded him that he wasn’t alone. Stan was fine, the kids were fine, Kenny was going to be fine and even the dog was fine. Why did such a weird feeling clench the heart in his chest then?

He stepped into the kitchen, illuminated by one of those little and yellowish lights that made the shaded room seem like it was much later in the day than it actually was. Everything seemed to be cleaned up neatly except for a long piece of paper on the table, he noticed as he sat down into the chair and his gaze fell on Kyle who was leaning against the kitchen counter, clutching a hot cup of coffee. He was almost going to joke about how this is exactly what Tweek would do at the end of the world, but it did feel like the end of the world and they didn’t know where Tweek was. Where anyone else was, even their families.

“Want one too?” Kyle asked and as Eric nodded, he poured him a cup as well. “How’s Stan, by the way?”

“Hippie got off the hook, the bullet was actually sticking out and when I pulled it, he didn’t start projectile bleeding all over the place, so that’s good. I gave him some antibiotics and pain killers and told him to lie down and elevate the arm so it doesn’t swell up.” Eric clutched the hot cup for a bit, just staring at it emptily and verifying by the heat burning his palms that yes, he was alive and yes, this was really happening.

“Thank you.” Kyle mouthed, barely audible for either of them to hear, but the gratitude was there.

“So how’s it looking with the food?” He decided to ask instead of teasing him, not like they could allow themselves to relax just yet.

“Seems like a lot, but I don’t know.” Kyle shrugged. “I actually couldn’t fit all of it in the fridge, so I put the rest in the cabinets for now. There’s five of us though, so I imagine it’s going to go fast..”

“I will put it in the basement later, it’s cold enough down there.” Correction, there was six of them, Kyle just thought Kenny was a goner. But taking Kenny’s immortality into consideration, was he really going to need food? That guy didn’t eat much to begin with, so maybe five and a half people would be a more accurate way of describing it.

“Well, we need to eat the shit that’s going to go bad first anyway, so two meals a day should keep everyone from being hungry. We can worry about rationing the instant noodles later.” Two meals a day sounded reasonable. Kyle didn’t think he would live to see the day when Eric Cartman was going to act reasonable.

“Sure, I will stretch mine out for four smaller meals. That’s what I should be doing anyway.”

“Cause of the diabetes?” Why did he have to have such an annoying problem anyway? Diabetes was so random to have, they already ripped on Scott Malkinson for having diabetes and a lisp. Not only that, but Jew, ginger and Jersey had a nice ring to it, making fun of Kyle for anything more would have been overkill. Well, he did find out much later than Stan or Kenny, when he caught Kyle shooting up one time and questioned him about it.

“Yeah. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Oh. The weird feeling from before suddenly intensified.

“What’s up?” He asked instead, trying his best not to show that something inside of him was freaking the fuck out at that very moment.

“I have about two months’ worth of insulin right now.”

“Okay.” Eric leaned back in the chair then. “There’s a pharmacy in town, as soon as the herd in that direction disperses, I can—”

“It’s not going to be a matter of waiting it out, is it?” Kyle cut him off, looking rather empty and defeated himself.

“I don’t know, Kyle.” He didn’t know what to say.

Ideally, they would just wait it out for a few months, have the military handle the dirty work of containing the infection and all that bullshit. However, it seemed to be a case of everyone being infected and the dead ones reanimating. Who could really tell under these circumstances? The silent static on the TV wasn’t helping in the information department either.

Then, Kyle took a sip from his coffee and suddenly Eric understood the tightening of his chest from before.

“Unless someone starts manufacturing new insulin, I have a year left to live.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnnnnn
> 
> sorry for the late upload I've been having sleeping issues this past week


	6. Fucking and fighting is the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sublime - What I got  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Uc3ZrmhDN4

**13:57**

The weight of those words lingered over his head like he’d been drowning at one hundred feet underneath the ocean, lost. His lungs contracted with an ache of having their air supply punched right out. He didn’t want to say anything, for he would surely stutter and embarrass himself with the fact that he actually cared about the boy telling him he was going to die in the span of a year no matter what. No matter what elaborate plan he pulled.

Eric Cartman fought nature for Kyle Broflovski before, but never quite like this.

“What?” Was all he could amount to.

“The expiration dates on insulin are usually a year.” He confirmed. Somehow, the depth of the realization didn’t fully hit Kyle. Or did it? He felt rather numb to the whole situation, but he couldn’t really tell whether that was just a defense mechanism towards his very own upcoming date of death.

“Are you scared?”

“I don’t know.”

 

**14:00**

The ticking of the wall clock was the only noise bouncing of the walls as the two of them stared at each other blankly.

“Do you have a cigarette?” Kyle then asked.

“Yeah, sit down.” And he did.

There were very few times in their lives when the two of them got along or even spent time together and they weren’t arguing, throwing insults or throwing punches, but it seemed like this was one of those times. Not for any particular reason other than the chaos and havoc outside those boarded up windows, swarming with death and destruction and surely enough screams to imitate inferno like a mockful theatre. In the poorly lit room and the quietness they almost couldn’t recognize each other, nor could they recognize themselves, only following the shapes of the body and face as a reminder of the persons they were only hours ago, the ones that they molded in the anger towards one another since they first met as children. That’s why, when Eric handed him a cigarette and Kyle put it between his lips, maintaining the magnetic pull of his eyes, both of them forgot who they actually were.

“How’d you know I still smoke?”

“I know you better than I know myself, Cartman.”

“Just like I know you.” The two of them stared at each other, small smiles forming on their lips, but they weren’t nearly as friendly and genuine as they were just smirks at the expense of their weird… relationship. They didn’t really dare call it a friendship.

“Can I have a light now?” The cigarette hanged from Kyle’s lips and that’s when Eric remembered one crucial detail.

“Kenny stole my lighter again.”

“I guess you’re not getting that back.”

“Not today.”

 

**18:41**

“Got anything yet?” Kyle spoke as he entered the living room, but his question was answered right away by the same black and white static of the TV screen, illuminating Eric’s face in flickers as he sat on the couch in front of it, still fiddling with the radio.

He rubbed his red hair with a towel as it was still dripping droplets from his shower, before hanging it over the end of the couch and sitting down next to his sort-of-friend. Eric sat back and stretched himself much like his cat, giving Kyle the side glance and noticing that the boy changed into sweatpants and another plain shirt. Which reminded him that it wouldn’t hurt to take a shower and change as well, his clothes still smelled like the rain and he didn’t take a second to stop and not do anything that would benefit them in this situation, whether it was talking over possible plans and scenarios, writing down what he noticed from their encounters with the undead or fiddling with the radio for hours straight. Who knew? Maybe they could get in touch with someone, maybe even the military. As far as he could tell, this shit started not even a day ago, there was still hope in finding help and even a safe place. Somewhere where they could actually live, not just try to survive. However, the longer it was going to take, the more hopeless it was going to be.

“No, nothing. Complete silence everywhere. It’s like the whole world just disappeared up its own ass.” It really felt like that. One second everything was going fine and dandy and the next it seemed like everyone was either dead or in this house.

“What are you looking out for anyway?”

“Anything, but preferably an army outpost, they have the resources to survive this shit. Even start a normal life, but better sooner than later before they go coo-coo.” Kyle pulled his legs up on the couch, turning on his side to face the boy better.

“Why would they go coo-coo?” He was amused already.

“Haven’t you seen 28 days later?” Eric asked as if it was public knowledge.

“No.”

“Well, we have exactly 28 days before they all go crazy, otherwise they will take us in only for the pretty girl – you in this case – to get almost raped before I, the obvious hero in this story, savagely kill all of them and save the day.” Kyle blinked, giving it a few seconds to process in his mind before getting angry.

“Cartman, I’m not a girl!”

“You sure bitch like one, Kyle.” Eric laughed, earning a good slap on the back of the head as if he were a child.

“I’m going to go make dinner.” With that angry face he stood up. “And you’re certainly not the hero!”

God, if there was anything in this world he loved, it was pissing Kyle off, but he wasn’t going to push his luck too much in an enclosed space and in what he assumed to be a lawless wasteland judging by the silence of the world outside these walls.

 

**21:30**

Eric really did have to sit on the floor, rummaging through drawers for old clothes and examining his findings with confusion at its finest. The little girl standing behind him and watching the whole frustrating ordeal nervously didn’t help either. Nor did the amused stare from Stan, or the judgmental stare from Kyle ripping into his back. He turned around before any of them could speak.

“Fuck you, I wasn’t fat, I was big boned.” At which Kyle rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Karen. Doesn’t look I got anything that would fit you.”

“I grabbed some of Ike’s clothes. You can wear that, Karen.” Kyle finally spoke up with a solution, satisfied with seeing Eric struggle first.

“Thank you.” The little girl said, feeding Kyle’s Jewish mother persona even further.

“Alright,” Eric finally stood up from the floor, “Stan is in my mom’s room, so you can go cuddle up with him, Jew. Karen, you can take my room. I will be downstairs keeping watch tonight. Don’t want anyone to come knocking on the door or worse.” Keeping watch was one thing, but he had to make sure to take care of other matters as well before anyone else woke up.

“I will keep watch too!” Suddenly, Karen’s eyes were full of life, grasping at an opportunity and at Eric’s shirt. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I want to stay up for Kenny!”

Seeing that display broke Kyle’s heart and while Eric might have appeared to be cold and uncaring towards the reality of the situation, he knew better than to mourn his best friend. Kenny was going to return, even if he had to take matters into his own hands.

“Sure. The Jew can take my room then.”

 

**4:16**

Unsurprisingly, Eric looked over to his side only to find the little girl fast asleep right beside him, cuddling up with her doll on the couch. She was truly determined to stay up all night, but surrendered only after three hours, telling him to wake her up so he can take a nap later too. He didn’t. The sharp light of his phone burned his eyes, he was tired, but he didn’t feel like sleeping either. The anxiety crawling all over his skin made him push through exhaustion pretty easily, he was far too much on alert to relax. Throughout the night, he half-expected knocking on the door, whether it would have been a zombie smashing its head into it, some faggot screaming for help, or Kenny returning. Hey, those were all viable options.

However, as dawn reached, the gut feeling intensified and he stood up with a pillow in his hand, making his way up the stairs and inside his room, where his gaze lingered on Kyle and Ike fast asleep – he ended up taking his room to not disturb Stan while he was recovering. He watched Kyle sleep before, numerous times, yet he found himself staring a little longer than intended. What was he doing? Focus. He stepped forward, opening up the drawer right by Kyle’s head and pulling out the gun he somehow owned since he was like eight years old – a Glock 17. Thanks, mom.

As he jumped out the open window, he made sure to note the noises he heard – the chirping of the birds, the noise that the wind made as it rustled the trees and most importantly, distant growls and moans all around. Hopping fences was the safest route he could take at this point, unknowing of the streets littered with the dead, he would surely get hurt as the Sun did not yet rise up towards the horizon. As he walked with his gaze forward, he noticed how dull and dark the world looked. Not only that, but even though the streets were clearly filled with more people than ever, the sense of loneliness and being lost hovered over his head like a guillotine hanging up by a thread. He didn’t know what to expect from another day, but as his feet brought him towards the courtyard of the school, he recognized a bright orange hoodie, shining a contrast to the world around.

Just as his gut feeling told him, Kenny was still there, held back by a duct tape to not get lost among the herd that now dispersed from around the school. Everything seemed to have a grey tint, everything except the dead boy, dead but not quite. Surely, heaven must have been confused, otherwise the rats would have already ate him.

“Look at you, poor boy, leaving me to deal with everyone. What would have happened if I didn’t come to rescue you?” His question was only returned by groaning, one free hand reaching out and grasping only inches from his leg. Deciding that Kenny looked pathetic for long enough, Eric pushed the pillow right into his face and the gun against, the crack of a bullet following.

Bang.

The body limped, falling back onto the ground as Eric watched a swarm of rats run towards the body, ripping into the skin and every orifice of the body with claws and teeth, consuming the flesh and digging towards the organs. He had seen them before, but usually they dragged his body off, couldn’t quite do it as he secured himself in place, but somehow it seemed that the rats didn’t really try this time around. So he just watched until he saw bones, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He didn’t feel disturbed nor amused, he sort of just… accepted it. He waited patiently and as the Sun rose from behind his shoulder, the warmth of the morning burning into his back and onto the bones in front of him – he watched all that was eaten and ripped apart grow back just as fast. Organs, veins, flesh, skin – all of it.

Finally, as the body jerked awake with wide eyes and a loud gasp, he snapped out of his trance of watching the whole process.

“You’re disgusting.” Was his verdict.

Kenny stared at him as he still gasped for breath, finding it harder now than other mornings he woke up. This time, he didn’t find himself in his bed and he couldn’t really understand why. Somehow he had hoped he would wake up to find everything back to normal and think back on the events that took place as nothing but a nightmare, but the chewed up tape around his wrist, the position he was in and his best friend standing over him with a shot up pillow in one hand and a pistol in the other confirmed that the world was still ending. Well, fuck. He sighed as he sprawled over the ground, the morning dew putting a chill over the skin of his cheek as he turned to look at Eric, who sat down beside him, staring up over the grey skies, only turning shades lighter rather than changing hue.

“I guess summer break started early.”

Kenny then jammed his earphones back into his phone before tapping the screen on and continuing the playlist as he lied his head back down onto the wet grass and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with the lighter he stole.

_Early in the morning, risin' to the street,_   
_Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet._

“How the fuck is that old thing still working?”

“No idea.”

The upbeat tunes rang through his ears as he closed his eyes and took a long drag from the cigarette seeing as how he didn’t get to finish his smoke from yesterday.

_Well, life is too short, so love the one you got,_   
_'Cause you might get run over or you might get shot._


	7. Come out and play.

**5:46**

In a world full of decay and an illness of becoming stuck in-between the worlds, the inability to die stood out like a bad joke. Looking down upon his new body, his clothes remained the same blood rags as a testament to his ever-growing count – a number that he did not know for he stopped counting which life he was on a long time ago. There was not a scratch left atop his skin as proof of happenstances from not even a full day ago – therefore he put his sanity into his best friend, because clothes alone couldn’t talk and call him gross for the way his body resurrected in the naked eye and burning sunlight. The cold air felt sharp against his lungs, but the smoke soothed them in a strange way. Rather than coughing, the little burning fire warmed the tips of his fingers as the winds slashed against naked arms.

“Don’t hold it like a joint, you stoner bitch.” Eric commented, giving Kenny, who was now on his third cigarette since he resurrected, the side eye.

“Karen’s okay?” Kenny ignored him, opting for a more important conversation rather than another drug intervention.

Although Eric was a hypocrite and knew very well that drugs never had any real repercussions for Kenny, he still took part in scolding him whenever he got a little too high and out of control. It was to be expected from Kyle, who played the mother hen to all of them, but the other two were just playing innocent. Yes, Kenny knew about Stan’s dirty little secret with alcohol – that boy was an addict through and through, he was just better at hiding it. And well, when Eric got high, it was with him. He did have to applaud him for not taking after his crackwhore mom though, especially with all the drugs always easily accessible. He had some serious self-control in certain things, but definitely not when it came to anger or Kyle – both of which often went hand in hand.

“Obviously, who do you think I am? I’m just not good with talking to kids, making up excuses about why you’re gone to adults is hard enough.”

“You’re Cartman, that’s plenty enough to worry. Thanks though, I mean it.” He stopped for a second then to throw the cigarette butt onto the grass of someone’s backyard and step all over it.

However, as he did both of them were startled straight by an ear-piercing scream coming from inside the house. Come to think of it, this backyard…

Without a second’s notice, Kenny pulled down the sleeve over his fist and punched the glass of the back door a few times until it broke and he could open it from inside. Thankfully they made these windows so weak and no one ever fucking locked their doors properly. Why would they? They all lived in a small mountain town, and in the end, Kenny guessed that that was what fucked them over and why the distant groans didn’t seem as distant anymore. Rather, there was a bunch of the dead trying to walk through the fence. Eric looked back at it, although the sight seemed pretty fucking stupid and amusing, the slight bending of the wood made him hurry on inside right after Kenny.

What the fuck was that and why did Kenny always have to play the hero?

“Kenny!” He whispered, but the stubborn boy already grabbed himself a crowbar from the garage and ran upstairs without acknowledging him, so he ran after him, but this time more angrily, passing by photos hung up on the wall that neither of them noticed in the moment.

“Kenny, I swear to Christ—”

“Holy shit, dude.” Kenny laughed nervously, slowly lowering crowbar he held and standing in a more relaxed position. Eric’s eyes landed on the sight after he came to a halt in the familiar doorway and he lowered the gun in his hands as well. To no one’s surprise, he lost it then, laughing like a maniac.

The much smaller boy in front of the two best friends finally looked up from the gory display with wide eyes – one marked with a scar from a long time ago, a dirtied hatchet in his hands as he stood above two corpses in a pool of blood, splatter all over himself. He was breathing heavily, shaking and still in full defense, but the sight of him standing there like that in his never changing childhood bedroom and crooked family pictures on turquoise colored walls felt not only serene and eerie, but indisputably ironic.

“Hey,” Kenny was the first of the three to speak up, “I guess that means you’re not grounded anymore.”

Butters’ eyes shot up then, following the voice and hanging onto its words as they replayed in his mind to realize what he’d just done. The soft features of his face and his childish demeanor never did feel right to see him with a weapon or even covered in blood, especially when the blood wasn’t his. It was always captivating to see though.

“Did I just…?”

“Yes, you killed your parents.” Eric’s tone was nonchalant. “Congratulations.”

 

**6:08**

“I—” The discussion was cut short soon enough as the front door creaked open and clumsy footsteps filled the first floor. It wasn’t only one pair, but multiple, and as Kenny peered down the staircase, the entire living room seemed to get flooded by the undead. What’s more, the front door was just casually left wide open.

“Butters? Did you not lock the front door?” Kenny asked in a lower tone as he backed up inside the bedroom and closed it behind him as quietly as possible.

“God dammit, Butters! Seriously?!”

“I-I’m sorry, fellas!” The boy stuttered, not fully grasping the situation he was in, which was weird, considering…

“Butters,” Kenny’s voice sounded much more gentle, “you weren’t at school?”

“W-Well, geez, no. I was hiding in here all by myself, at least until mom and dad got home with these strange bites. I thought they passed out, but then they just started walking all over the place downstairs for the whole night. When they got up here, they tried attacking me and weren’t listening, so I had to…”

“It’s okay, Butters—” Kenny reassured him, but Eric froze.

“Butters?” Eric’s voice sounded much harsher, bringing him back to how they played good and bad cop a long time ago. These two surely checked all the criteria for that.

“Y-Yes, Eric?”

“If you don’t know what’s happening out there, what were you hiding from?”

“W-Well, I kind of forgot to tell you guys because I got scared,” with everything happening so fast they forgot too, “yesterday Trent Boyett was supposed to get released from juvie. It’s been five years already.”

Huh. Already?

 

**6:08**

The cold breeze chilled his back as the shirt got pulled up during his sleep. Cold, he thought, why the fuck was it cold? Did he forget to turn up the heater? Wait, it was basically summer, there was no need for that. The racing thoughts stopped as he finally jerked awake and sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around only to find the window wide open, letting in all the icy morning breeze from a stormy night.

“What the fuck, Cartman…” He muttered to himself, thinking that the fat ass did that just to fuck with him.

Such petty stuff wouldn’t be beyond him, though it was also Ike’s fault for hogging the blanket. Whatever, he wasn’t going to take the blanket from his baby brother and wake him up. Grumpily, Kyle stood up to close the window with annoyance before walking through the hallway as quietly as possible to check on his best friend who was still sleeping like a log. It seemed that Stan was okay enough, if anything was wrong he would surely wake up and say so. Then, he made his way downstairs just as quietly to kick Eric awake as a form of retaliation, but he stopped in his tracks once he found only Karen fast asleep on the couch, covered by a blanket he recognized to be his. So fat ass kept it, huh? Well, why would he throw it away when he didn’t know whose it was to begin with? Kyle scratched his head then, sleepily admitting defeat before making his way into the kitchen, about to make himself some coffee to wake up, but he froze and his heart skipped a beat.

Wait, where was he?

His eyes widened, brows furrowing into worry as he realized the streets were swarmed by monsters and that was the very reason they locked everything up, boarded every window up, blocked every door up—

Not every window.

He fucking left them to die in here?!

Suddenly, there was a knock on the back door, which they only bothered to block with a small drawer in case they all needed to bail or something. That brought him out of his daze. Dumbass! Left via window and now he can’t get back up because he’s too fat. Serves him right, he should just leave him out there!

“…” Kyle stared at the door with piercing anger, but something inside of him won over and he hastily pushed the drawer aside and opened the door, but not without giving Eric a piece of his mind.

“Where the fuck were you, Cartman?!” He asked, but the words in his throat got stuck as he stared at a figure that he didn’t recognize, that clearly didn’t belong to Eric and once his gaze made it up towards the face of a much taller man, a chill ran down his spine, eliminating any sort of anger he held onto and suddenly wishing it was Eric, if only to throw him to the wolf at this moment.

“Can Eric come out and play?” Trent spoke coolly, a particular disgust in his voice and something dangerous hiding behind his stern expression.

“Oh, Cartman isn’t home right now—” He quickly made up an excuse, praying that he didn’t recognize him as he immediately grabbed the door handle and tried to close the door in his face, but the boot that stopped the door just before it could close made his heart sink in his chest.

“Then you will do.”


	8. Does the blood match the drapes?

**6:13**

The thumping of his own heart filled his head, to the point of it almost being unbearable. With what was left of his focus, he slowly retreated backwards, feeling the cool and the hardness of the kitchen tiles underneath the socks he wore. He was almost twitching in anticipation, looking around the room for anything sharp, but he put the knives away into the drawer – so he cursed himself along the way for being tidier than Eric – and when his backside hit the table, he knew it was too late to start looking for a weapon. As Trent pushed himself into his personal space, Kyle tried to back up a little further but all it caused was a loud creak filling the silence.

“Where’s Cartman? I have special business with him.” Trent asked, leaning both of his hands on top of the table, effectively trapping Kyle in between.

“Look,” Kyle’s voice quivered as he looked up into those cold eyes, “I don’t know where he is, he just up and left in the night without saying a word—”

“Don’t fuck with me!” Trent raised his voice, causing Kyle to jump a little in his place, but the noise caused the little girl in the living room to stand up and approach the two.

“Kyle?” Her voice was soft and by the way she fiddled with her fingers and looked at them, it was clear she was scared. His presence alone spoke volumes about just how dangerous he was, even a child could tell. Trent’s gaze immediately followed her figure and Kyle grabbed his arm to get his attention back, mouthing a plead to him.

“Tell her to go, she won’t want to see this.” He leaned in to whisper into Kyle’s ear, making him shudder, but he obeyed. There wasn’t much he could do in this position, all he could hope for was that Trent wouldn’t kill him and that he wasn’t going to go check upstairs for anyone else.

“Go upstairs and don’t come down no matter what you hear.” Kyle finally spoke up, sounding much more strict than he would like to. Naturally, he would like to turn away from him and comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he had a feeling that if he tried, Trent would beat him to death right in front of her, so instead, he didn’t mind raising his voice at her, even when she argued.

“But—”

“Now!” He yelled at her and as she stood there in shock, she was just as quick to turn around and run upstairs, just like she was told. Hopefully, Stan would get the hint and either run away or hide. They were scared of this guy five years ago, now he was even stronger and even more pissed off than before.

“Where were we? Right, you five clowns landed me another five years in Juvenile hall because you just couldn’t take your stupid punishments. Now, when I finally get out, the world is ending and I’m too late to live my fucking life. So tell me, Kyle, what do you think I’m going to do to you since you survived the shooting?” The last word sent chills down his spine as realization dawned on him.

“What are you talking about?” Yet he still couldn’t help asking.

“Well, with the whole apocalypse thing, I thought I’d speed things up a bit in here and shoot up the school. But when I looked for you, you weren’t anywhere in the herd or dead. How come that you always manage to get away like cockroaches?” His words were clear and the way he talked about it confirmed to Kyle that there was no way he could talk his way out of this one, because no amount of moral bullshit would apply to this guy, especially not after they took ten years of his life from him for something that they have done. This was a person come undone, rightfully so.

Kyle wasn’t quite sure of what to say to that, because he knew that whatever he said, the end result would be the same.

“Well,” Trent spoke, a small smirk forming on his face, “it doesn’t matter where the rest is, I will find them all.”

At that, Kyle tried to open his mouth, but Trent’s fist came down on his face, right between his eyes with a way too loud crack – forcing him to fall down onto the floor along with a chair he got caught on. Suddenly, all he could feel was the kitchen tiles that felt like ice under his fingertips, albeit his fear could have been the cause of how cold it was, his veins felt like they became drained despite the rapid heartrate contradicting that. The ringing in his ears sounded overpowering and his vision was ever so blurry as he stared up with those big eyes already forming purple bruises around. He brought his arm up, putting it up to his nose as his whole being shivered and blood spilled down everywhere. Down his lips and his chin and the arm that tried to stop the bleeding, but Trent was nowhere near done as he jumped atop of him. Full force.

 

**6:15**

“Stan, wake up!” Karen shook him awake until he abruptly stood from his sleep, but before he could say anything, the little girl put her hand over his mouth to cover it and pressed a finger against her own lips to make it clear he needed to be quiet. Stan looked at her all puzzled, until he heard a loud noise coming from downstairs, as if something fell over and crashed.

“What’s going on down there?” He asked her, but instead of waiting for a reply, he went looking through his back until he found his gun.

“There’s some scary looking man… He has been talking to Kyle about you guys, he seemed really angry…” She couldn’t really find a way on how to explain it, since she didn’t know who he was, but the way he talked meant he was dangerous. Kyle looked scared too…

Now, those words alone left Stan confused, but once he looked towards his phone, he saw several missed messages as the screen lit up.

[cartman]: hey so

[cartman]: I went out to pick up Kenny and we came across Butters

[cartman]: all of us are fine

[cartman]: but

[cartman]: Butters said Trent Boyett was supposed to be released from juvie yesterday

[cartman]: when you wake up tell Kyle to open the window so we can get back in I noticed he closed it

[cartman]: we are kind of stuck here but we will make it over no problem

[cartman]: why is the back door open

[cartman]: who opened it

[cartman]: Stan????

He scrolled down his phone screen at the wave of messages and as another loud noise resonated with force from downstairs, his stomach became filled with dread and nausea.

[me]: he’s here

[cartman]: what

[me]: Trent is here

[me]: Kyle is downstairs with him

[cartman]: open the fucking window I’m on my way

Stan discarded his phone then, opening the window wide open and without wasting any more time through the deafening silence filled with only the occasional sound of something falling to the floor. He didn’t hear Kyle make any noise the whole time and he had no idea whether that was a good or bad thing in this situation.

 

**6:20**

Swing.

Swing.

Swing.

The sight felt like a video on loop, accelerated by each second to play faster and for the swinging of the arm to hit harder. Although his whole body was trembling and his breathing was erratic, the expression on Kyle’s face was unchanging, unwilling to admit hurt or defeat in the hopeless and obvious display of brute force.

Ike watched his brother aghast.

“Get the fuck away from him!” He found himself yelling and as the scary man’s attention shifted towards him, he knew he had to think fast. But then, the scene in front of him was blocked as Stan stepped forward with a gun in his hands.

“You heard him. Back off, Trent.”

“You don’t even know how to use that.” He said before grabbing Kyle by the hair and pulling out his old switchblade, pressing it right against Kyle’s throat. Stan visibly tensed up, but so did Kyle as his eyes locked on his little brother, eyes welling up in guilt.

“Do you want to find out?”

“Put down the gun, or I’m slitting his throat.”

He wasn’t going to let him watch his big brother being killed, that’s why—

“D-Do what he’s saying, Stan.” Kyle managed through gritted teeth, trying not to show just in how much pain he was at the moment, although he was pretty sure from the way his body was reacting and the warm blood dripping down his face, it was obvious to anyone.

Stan hesitated, brainstorming for any sort of solution, but the tension in the air and the sharp blade pressed against his best friend’s neck dangerously close already forced him to slowly put down the gun.

“Now kick it towards me.” So he did, just wanting the blade to pull away and thankfully, it did as it disappeared back into Trent’s pocket to be replaced by the gun. This time though, it was aimed at him. Although not ideal, it was preferable.

A loud bang filled the air then, but the gun in Trent’s hand hadn’t flinched an inch and Stan had still been standing there without harm. Both of them looked rather confused, but when Trent signaled for Stan to go out into the backyard and he obliged, the sharp light of the morning sun shaped a figure he was, for just a millisecond, confused to see. The dirty blonde hair glowed much like a halo, but a gun was held above it, aiming at the sky above. Kenny smiled, still holding the gun up as he saw the confusion on everyone’s faces, and despite knowing that they hadn’t been wondering about why he was alive, it was satisfactory enough. Trent aimed the gun right at him then, but Kenny just grinned, still keeping his up aiming above.

“Let the flesh-eating monsters in, Butters!” He yelled suddenly, making his second shot as the other boy opened the gate of the fence and a bunch of the dead approached, following the loud sound to their next meal.

“What the fuck—” Trent didn’t quite get to finish before a body suddenly slammed into his from behind, going the extra mile to pick him up off the ground and start dragging him along towards the open gate. He shot at the figure. Once. Twice. The realization then dawned upon him that the gun was empty, but his time already ran out when he found himself being thrown into a horde of the dead and being grabbed, staring ahead to find Eric Cartman smirking back at him in the open fence, mocking him and making fun of him just like he did all those years ago.

“So long, Trent. Have a nice time!”

The gates behind him closed one last time.

Eric was the last person to see Kyle that morning, but as he assessed the damage, all he could see was the portrait of someone sitting on his knees wonderstruck in grass as green as his eyes boring back into him and the blood, as red as that curly hair, dripping down chapped lips like he was a painting. Both found themselves smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell I enjoyed beating Kyle up


	9. You're still not a hero.

**6:34**

First, she could hear yelling. Then, there were gunshots.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting was nerve-wracking. When Eric sneaked in by the window, he assured her that he was going to take care of everything and to just wait up here. Things did quiet down, but it had been quiet for what felt like an eternity, so she just stared down at the floor with her fingers in little fists pressing into her thighs while Sparky whined and scratched at the closed bedroom door. He was surely worried about his owner too. Eventually though, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs and it made her tense up further, then the doorknob squeaked as it was turned and she turned her head to face the bad man from before, but…

“Kenny!” Her whole face lit up with excitement.

“Hey, there. I missed you.” His voice was gentle, like always and soon enough he found himself picking his little sister up into his arms and hugging her tightly.

So many things happened that it felt like he hadn’t seen her in years. She must have been so scared without her big brother around to protect her. She always depended on him like that, it made him feel guilty for not being around during the scariest moments, the first moments of the outbreak. Well, now that he was back, he wasn’t going to let that happen again. Ever.

“I missed you too! Where were you?” Her voice got higher, seeping with joy. It was so obvious to see how she felt, it always had been. Sometimes, people couldn’t tell what Kenny was thinking or feeling, mostly because he hid his face for that reason. Eventually, he grew out of hiding his face so much, but the mask of emotions stayed. Mostly. With Karen though, it was the exact opposite, she really was just a little girl.

“Oh, you know…” He really should have come up with an excuse earlier. “Having a smoke.”

“With all the monsters outside? They could kill you, I’ve seen them attacking people on the way here.” Clearly, she didn’t believe him. Yeah, he wouldn’t buy it either. With the whole Butters and Trent ordeal he didn’t have much time to come up with anything better though.

“Sorry, Karen. I wish you didn’t need to see that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay, Kenny. But, please, be more careful from now on.” A lot of the time, he could act so… careless. She didn’t know why – why he would disappear in the middle of the night from home, why he wouldn’t be back home for days at a time, why he had a gun hidden under his pillow and certainly not where he got it from. She just knew that eventually, he was just there, back home and completely unharmed in the mornings. Just like he stood here right now.

“Don’t worry,” he finally put her back down, smiling wide, “your big brother can’t die.”

He always told her that, but she never really understood what he meant by that. Maybe he was just acting stupid.

 

**6:40**

“Damn.”

“What?”

“He roughed you up pretty good.”

Kyle looked very offended as he sat there. On the same chair Stan sat in only a day ago, nonetheless. Eric sure hoped this wouldn’t become a habit. However, he couldn’t help himself staring at Kyle – all the blood smears and all the bruising that beautifully sat on his skin, red to light pink as it was clearer to see under the white bathroom light. All those specks of color all over his face looked like a mosaic.

“What are you saying?” Kyle asked, hands crossed and surely fuming inside about how he wasn’t strong enough to defend himself against the guy, or protect their, well, home.

“That you look like shit.” He lied.

“Well geez, thanks.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

Then, there was a damp cloth washing the blood off his face and while he expected Eric’s hands to start rubbing his skin off aggressively, that didn’t happen. Those big hands were surprisingly gentle, making sure to carefully clean everything off. It took him off guard, but… it was appreciated.

“Looks like he broke your Jew nose.” Eric decided to be annoying, he would rather not sit there in silence and have those doe eyes look right through him and his thoughts.

“Oh no, with a smashed face, I might start resembling you.” The mockery was monotone to say the least, but it made Eric stop for a second and grin and remember something.

“Usually, when the hero saves the girl from trouble she kisses him as a thanks. Yet here you are, insulting my good looks.” Kyle had to giggle at how ridiculous that sounded, but he did have a point. He saved him. He could have let him get beaten to death. When did Eric start caring about whether he lived or died anyway? Even when he told him about the insulin issue, he looked pretty troubled.

“What happened when you were gone anyway? I thought you ditched us in here.” The accusation took Eric off guard, but it wasn’t like he was the most trustworthy person around, so he understood why someone would think that.

“I wouldn’t ditch you.” He felt that he needed to clarify that. “I had to get Kenny, he got stuck at the school when he helped us escape.”

“Oh, right.” Why didn’t he stop Kenny? He couldn’t remember, something about that was a blur, but he decided to blame it all on the shock and stress.

“Then we found Butters, hiding in his room and screaming because he just killed his zombie parents. He told us about Trent and before I could think of anything to do, I saw that the back door was open and Stan texted that he was already here. I snuck in through the window when Kenny distracted him and decided to just fucking ram him, because it was stupid enough to work.” Yeah, it was really stupid.

“How’d you know the gun wasn’t loaded?”

“I didn’t.” Kyle’s eyes widened.

“You could have gotten shot…” There it was, that expression. Worried for someone else even though his own face was swollen and bruised black, with a nose bandage covering the worst of it.

“Well, I didn’t tell Stan to go down there and try to steal my spotlight. But I don’t think he knew it wasn’t loaded in the moment either.” He didn’t really care though, about the gun part. He was prepared to get a few bullets in him and maybe for them to even hit vital parts, but he was going to take Trent down with him. The moment when he stood there in the gate and saw him getting torn apart while he realized he was unscathed might have been the most satisfying moment of his life.

“Well, thank you.” Kyle stood up then.

“For what?” For a second there, he was confused, but when the cold and cracked, yet soft lips pressed against his cheek for only a moment and disappeared just as quick, he had to try his best to hold his composure.

“There’s your kiss for saving me, fat ass.”

 

**7:02**

Stan made his way back down, phone in one hand and charger in the other. He always forgot to charge it while he slept, so he decided to take it down with him while he made breakfast for everyone, since Kyle was in pain, Kenny just came back from God knows where, Butters was in shock and Cartman was Cartman. They did need to eat though, now especially. As he put his phone on the kitchen counter to get charged, he noticed Butters sitting there, fidgeting in silence and more nervous than he’d ever seen him before. The boy was sensitive, so he guessed it wasn’t that unusual to see him react like this, but he was still curious.

“Butters?” Hearing a voice seemed to snap him out of it.

“O-Oh, hey Stan.” His voice seemed rather shaky, well, more than it was to begin with. He wasn’t even looking at him.

“Sorry about your parents, I heard from Cartman.” He didn’t know how else to bring it up, but there was no way around it and it seemed like he needed to address it. Better sooner than later, pushing things down never helped anyone. Stan knew that one well, so he waited and listened while he brought the food out of the fridge.

“Y-Yeah…” He went quiet for a few seconds before continuing, recalling what happened. “My parents were at the PTA meeting while I hid at home. I remember, they ran home really scared with these weird bites at random spots on their bodies… My mom looked like a mess. I just watched them from the staircase because I was scared they’d ground me if they found out I skipped school. Then they got… tired and fell asleep and they weren’t my parents anymore. They just walked around downstairs all day and night and eventually, I guess, they somehow made it upstairs.” He kept looking down at his hands as he spoke.

“…What happened then?” He asked even though he knew.

“I killed them with the hatchet I took from the garage to defend myself from Trent… I didn’t want to… I couldn’t lock myself in my bedroom because they didn’t fucking trust me!” He choked back tears at the last sentence and his chest trembled in agony. His parents weren’t the best and they were really stupid at times, but he didn’t want to kill them. Stan didn’t know what to say, so through the crackling of the oil and eggs on the stove, he stepped towards him and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry, Butters. Mine and Kenny’s parents went to that meeting too.” He didn’t want to think about it, but he was pretty confident about how they ended up.

“D-Did you see them?” He asked, feeling a little less alone.

“No.”

Just as he said that, the TV in the living room shot up to life and everyone that came down to eat stopped dead in their tracks in front of it. He couldn’t see the picture, although from the angle it was at it just seemed like a blue screen, like a bad joke. Even the way the news reporter sounded seemed like it, unprofessional and scared. He could have guessed as much.

_“This is a special report. We have come on the air this morning as we are following the developments of the international outbreak of what the World Health Organization presumes to be an airborne infection. This infection remains dormant in the human body until the person passes away after which it takes effect in the brain. These victims then start attacking living humans for unknown reasons, however, we have noted that a bite from an infected individual causes death within a 30 minute to 1 hour span. In the past 24 hours, all major cities seem to have been compromised. The government of the US has declared martial law in all states across the country and survivors are advised to flee from largely populated areas and find a safe spot to hide in. You are to avoid the infected at all cost. May God be with you.”_

As the report ended, a muffled cry was heard and then it turned back to silence. All of them kind of just stood there with conflicted emotions. Eric in particular hoped to get to know more about the situation, but as he turned away and walked into the kitchen, it was obvious in his eyes that he would have rather not heard. Kenny looked like he expected as much, Butters didn’t really process it and Kyle, although swollen, lingered on the screen a little longer than everyone else before Ike tugged on his sleeve and pulled him away.

Then, as Stan unlocked his phone out of habit, a notification he didn’t expect popped up.

_45m ago_   
_Wendy_   
_Missed Call (3)_


	10. Die for pussy and your BFF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sup sorry for the laaaate upload, I've had college entrance exams and been taking care of my sick birdie who unfortunately passed away and I just couldn't bring myself to write while I was mourning, but there ya go and uploads should resume as normal

**10:00**

Once they blocked the exit again, the same hopeless hue of grey seemed to reappear within the collective space. Everything just seemed a little bit darker, a little bit more grim on the inside than it was outside. Even though the outside was what was truly dangerous. Being stuck inside, it was all making them feel slightly claustrophobic, for varying reasons. But all of them had this glooming feeling over their heads that the monotone waiting and hoping this would just pass was going to kill them in the end. There were small distractions to help them cope, yes, but all of them felt antsy. Like they were going to need to run. Eric in particular looked like he was seething in nervous energy as his leg trembled while he kept writing something down in a notepad. He looked very focused, but snapped out of it soon enough to listen to the hippie having a breakdown. Some things were simply amusing.

“Fuuuuuuuck…” Stan moaned out, laying his head on top of the table in defeat. For some reason, that felt comforting even though the rest of his friends stared at him concerned and confused.

“Her phone’s still off?” Kyle asked while he was pressing a pack of ice to his nose for the second time that day. Although it looked like he was trying to spread the ice all over the rest of his face too. Poor guy.

“Yeah. I’ve been constantly trying to call her back.”

“She must be keeping it turned off for a reason, Stan.”

“Yeah,” suddenly Kenny jumped into the conversation, “she can handle herself. Remember when she beat up Eric?”

“Y-Yeah, she destroyed his bitch ass.” Butters finally spoke up after having been lost in his own thoughts for the past few hours. It seemed like he was coming around at last.

“Ay! That was years ago, I could kick her ass now!” He sounded so defensive, Kyle couldn’t help laughing through the pain.

“Wait, she wasn’t at school either, was she?” Kenny asked.

“No, she… The whole cheerleading team went to Denver this morning.” All of them went quiet as they didn’t have much to say to that. No smart remarks, no jokes. They all realized that getting stuck in Denver during the outbreak would have been a death sentence. Even this morning’s report confirmed that all major cities have been compromised.

She did call him for help though, didn’t she?

“I’m going to Denver.” Stan suddenly decided as he stood up with a determined look on his face. Scared, but determined.

“Stan!” Kyle slammed the ice pack back onto the table as he stood up on reflex to get in his way. “You heard the report, we have to stay away from places like that!”

“I have to go.” His voice went a little quieter as he avoided looking straight at Kyle, not allowing him to look into his eyes and try to convince him otherwise. He really didn’t want a lecture or just sit back and hide while someone he loved was clearly out there and in trouble.

“Stan,” Kenny leaned forward in his chair, “you know that’s a suicide mission, right?”

“Yeah.” He replied, but he didn’t seem to have trouble looking Kenny in the eyes. Maybe because he knew that Kenny understood these kinds of things better, even though Kyle was his closest friend.

“Alright then, if you’re going, I’m going.” Kyle stood his ground, suddenly catching the attention of everyone. He didn’t really know what he was saying himself, but it was the best approach that came to mind. Even Eric raised his eyebrow at how stupid that idea sounded.

“You can’t go, you’re injured!” Finally, they were looking at each other and arguing while the rest watched the scene unfold in bewilderment.

“So are you! You can’t go alone, someone has to go with you! I—”

“I will go with him.” Kenny offered as Eric rolled his eyes. He knew this would happen. When did Kenny exactly start saving other people and caring so much? Ever since they started playing superheroes, was his guess. It was ridiculous how selfless he could be once you looked past certain aspects of his personality. He knew it wasn’t his fault though, not with the home life he grew up in. Maybe he was trying to prove to himself there was more to his existence than dying. Like dying for good.

“If Kenny’s going, I have to go too.” He reminded, giving the boy one of his pissed off looks. When exactly did Kenny become his responsibility?

He had to tag along in case something happened to Kenny, because he was the only one who remembered him dying and apparently, turning. He knew already that Stan would have a problem killing him if he got bitten again. It would just cause Kenny to get stuck as a moving corpse instead of getting reborn like he was supposed to and quite frankly, Eric wasn’t in the mood to take his own little trip to Denver later to try and hunt down Kenny’s body and finish it off. Considering that reality, he was surprised Kenny didn’t react in a stronger way. Why did he not seem to care that much? Eric’s eyes lingered on Kenny, who turned to him sideways with that typical, small smirk of his. His smiles always looked sort of sad in a way, even now.

“Well, if Cartman’s going, I’m going too.” Kyle tried, but Eric and Stan both didn’t seem to like that idea in the slightest.

“You’re staying behind, Jew.” There it was, the usual meanness and coldness he had to listen to since preschool. Why did it hurt to hear it now of all times? Maybe he let his guard down too much around him because of the outbreak. During certain moments, Eric actually seemed to care. Maybe the end of the world thing was screwing with his head and making him see things that weren’t really there.

“What fat ass meant,” Kenny jumped in before Kyle could defend himself, “someone has to stay here with the kids. We can’t just leave them on their own with everything that’s going on outside. I would prefer it if you and Butters stayed at home and made sure they’re safe. I need Karen to be safe.”

Kyle couldn’t argue with that, not with how much brotherly love he saw in those eyes. Suddenly, he felt kind of bad about going and possibly getting himself killed. He still had his own little sibling to take care of, even though sometimes it seemed like Ike was the one taking care of him. But what about his friends? He couldn’t just leave them to go to a place like that all on their own…

“And this time don’t open the door to strangers.” Eric commented nonchalantly, snapping Kyle out of his thoughts.

“Shut up, Cartman! I’m going and that’s final, Butters can babysit!” He stormed off then, leaving a pissed off Eric glaring into his back.

“Oh, hamburgers…”

“Butters, will you be fine with the kids on your own?” Kenny asked.

“I-I think so, fellas.”

“Okay, now,” he turned to look at the incriminated duo, “what has gotten up your asses? Why don’t you want Kyle around?”

“He’s my best friend! I don’t want to see him getting hurt… It was bad enough I couldn’t help him this morning, I don’t want to put him in unnecessary danger. This is my problem.” His voice was genuine, like always. Even though Kenny would like to, he couldn’t really scold Stan for caring too much, only reassure him.

“He’s your best friend, your problems are his problems. Right, fat ass?” Eric groaned before Kenny turned to interrogate him. “What about you, why don’t you want Kyle around?”

“He’s a Jew.” Was the simple answer as he averted Kenny’s gaze, knowing fully well he saw past that lie.

What a dumbass, Kenny thought.

 

**12:00**

The two children stared on as their dumbass older brothers and their best friends distributed weapons among each other and packed a little bit of food in a backpack, just in case their road trip was going to take longer than they expected. They had to take any possibility into account, the road could be blocked by cars or swarms of the undead and they were pretty sure that once they entered Denver, there would be one dead guy for every square foot. They didn’t really know what to do once they were surrounded, but they didn’t think about it. They’d cross that bridge once they got to it.

“You’re leaving me with Butters?”

“I’m leaving Butters with you. You will be fine, Ike.”

“Will you?”

“Probably.” He hugged him, smiling down through his bruises and bandage, he felt so fucking sore.

Under any other circumstances, he probably would have stayed behind, but something about staying and waiting was making him feel anxious. It’s only been something over a day since the outbreak hit South Park, thanks to their past coming to bite them in the ass. He wondered, if they just apologized and took their punishment five years ago, if they could have actually had time to prepare and protect the town. They really drove the guy mad, huh? He could only grip the metal bat in his hand a little bit tighter, trying to recall how exactly he killed his first one. In the face of grave desperation, he felt the need to replay the scene in his brain over and over and over again just to make sure the reaction would become muscle memory and he wouldn’t freeze up ever again. This was something that his own life was going to depend on and the realization left him downhearted.

Dejected – the one expression he hated seeing on his little sister’s face. It reminded him of the face she always made when she heard their parents yell and fight and throw things. Sometimes even with her older brothers. Ever since he started noticing it, he tried his best not to fight back, he would just shut up and try his best to ignore the accusations that he stole their drugs. So what if he did sometimes? They were supposed to stop, supposed to not get high as much. He would be lying if he said he didn’t follow in their footsteps just to escape the universe for a little while. All it took was overdose or suicide and he would be reborn with a sober body. Kenny was a junkie’s dream.

“Said your goodbyes, faggots?” Eric stepped in, gun on his belt and a sledge hammer he found in his garage. Stan soon followed with an axe in his hand. Thank God for the random shit they kept in there.

“Whose car are we taking?” Kenny asked.

“I thought we were taking Cartman’s van.” Kyle turned towards them, staring at Eric, who for some reason, avoided his gaze.

“My mom took it with her yesterday morning.” And she hadn’t been back.

“We are taking my car.” Stan spoke, making his way through the boys and outside to get to his house and start the old thing. God knows it takes a while to start up after it hadn’t been driven in a while. Leaving them behind, they stared ahead, but Kenny soon followed in his footsteps. It was clear Stan was going through all kinds of scenarios in his head, so Kyle’s eyes lingered on his back before he disappeared through the door.

“Here.” Eric’s voice ringed in his ears as he pushed something into his hands. He looked down at the familiar black leather, that was about three sizes too big for him.

“What?” Kyle looked up at him, noting the way his arms were now exposed in his short sleeve shirt.

“You got tackled by a zombie once, we wouldn’t want a Jew zombie now, would we?” His words were harsh and full of the usual mockery, but the pitch in his voice was softer and deeper in contrast to what he usually sounded like. Just like how he sounded this morning when he was patching him up. As Eric stepped outside, Kyle couldn’t help following right behind, pulling the XL sized jacket over himself.


	11. Your parents deserved it, dude.

**12:17**

Who are you to tell the world it doesn’t need you anymore?

The decrepit eyes on a juvenile face followed the beaten down body as it stubbornly walked away, following with the loyalty of a dog and running towards the raw and biting grips of death. The cognizance of his actions wasn’t lost on either of them. No, it clung to their shoulders and it made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. Ike in particular was left with a hollow space in his throat, where he missed the vibrations against his cords that would have formed words.

He should have said something like “stop” or “don’t go” or anything at all. But he was scared and he came up on empty. Watching his big brother, the one who always protected him from ghosts and searched for him far and wide just to keep him from danger, leave out of sheer stupidity alone was unsettling to say the least. Him and his friends always got themselves into dangerous situations and always came out on top, but the foreboding that eventually their luck would run out was omnipresent, hovering above their heads.

Why couldn’t he just tell him that he needs him here still?

“Boys are so stupid…” Karen muttered beneath her breath, catching Ike’s attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“My brother is just going so he might get laid.”

“Oh.” Ike deadpanned, knowing that Kyle’s reasoning was surely even stupider.

 

**12:19**

“You know,” Stan spoke up once they were all sat safely inside the car, “you guys didn’t have to come along.”

The old car’s engine roared as Stan revved it up, carelessly bumping into the dead who decided to get in the way of the sound that it made. It made him feel queasy – knowing that these were all once regular people working nine to five jobs for a shitty paycheck and only worrying about paying rent or what to get from Chick-fil-A on a Tuesday night. Now they were dead and their defiled bodies were roaming around as if they belonged, hunting for the living as if they felt hunger, as if they had any right to feel hunger at all.

It was easier to dehumanize them in that sense – they were just walking pieces of flesh, as freaky as it sounded. However, something about that alone didn’t sit well with him. Were they really dead? Did they feel pain, desperation? How could you kill something that was already dead anyway? Still, he kept his foot on the gas pedal, trying not to focus on the bumping and the cracking of skulls and bones hitting the road. He did try his best to avoid direct impact, if only for the sake of his car.

“That’s what friends are for.” Kenny said as he curiously peeked through the backseat window, watching the dead crash and get up. “Sometimes, the world ends and your friend’s chick gets stuck in Zombie Central and he needs to save her and be a hero to get some. We will help you get that pussy, Marsh.”

“Jesus Christ, Kenny. Is that what you volunteered to come for?” He asked, baffled and amused by the honesty. At least it got his mind off of the hit and runs he committed just to get out of town and be able to speed up with no more of them in near sight.

“Not exactly. I mean, you said the cheerleading team went to Denver, right? Then there’s a high possibility that the other girls are still alive and when we come in guns blazing, or well, melee weapons blazing in this case, I will be seen as a hero and get laid too!” Kenny’s logic was absolutely flawless, leaving Stan agape, Kyle shaking his head in disapproval and Eric absolutely unaffected. He was used to this kind of shit already.

“Right. What’s the real reason you two came along?”

“I don’t trust Kenny out in the wild.” Eric commented.

“And I don’t trust Cartman.”

“Kyle, I’m deeply hurt by that.” The fat ass faked having any emotions and Kyle glared back at him through the rearview mirror. It didn’t have quite the same amount of malice this time around, since the poor guy had his pretty face beaten to a pulp only hours ago. Eric kind of liked that look though. Maybe because he was a sadist, for one.

“You’re not. You’re a sociopath.”

“Are you saying I’m charming?”

It seemed that they were back to their regular selves, for better or worse.

 

**12:34**

It seemed that the melancholy swept through every nook and cranny of the world, every gutter and sewer all the way up inside the houses and their dusty shelves. Usually, Butters loved to be included in the boys’ schemes and adventures, but this time he was grateful to be left off the hook. He liked Wendy and he really hoped they could get to her so she could beat up Eric again like the bitch he was, but at this moment in time he felt rather… unfocused.

Eric probably noticed that and that was why he didn’t drag him along to put him in the middle of a dangerous situation, since usually he would, just like on many occasions before. This time he didn’t even trust him with his gun though, but he had a good reason. Butters was pretty bad with guns. He sighed, shaking the thoughts off as he took off his baby blue hoodie, soaked in blood splatter. Looking at it and remembering the cause of it made him feel as if someone grabbed reality by the neck and hung it up to slowly die. How else could anyone explain the events that took place?

Whatever.

Deciding that he moped around long enough, he cleaned his face in the sink, finally seeing his own reflection past all that dried blood. It would seem he looked even shittier behind it. He didn’t stare at himself for too long before dumping his hoodie in the washing machine, along with some similarly bloody laundry. Seemed like the guys ended up having to kill some of those… monsters, too.

“Butters?” He turned around towards the voice, finding Karen standing there in the doorway, looking up at him with the same fear he saw in his own eyes in the mirror only moments ago.

He had a soft spot for her because he had one for Kenny. He really was the only genuinely caring guy he knew. He said it once before, that Kenny was the only kid with any sort of dignity. He helped him back then too, just like he ran to help him this morning.

“Hey, do you want me to throw in your clothes too?” He seemed to relax a little bit.

“I don’t have any other clothes.”

“Don’t worry, me neither, didn’t have any time to pack my stuff.” She smiled a little at that.

“Can’t you go back and get them?” She wondered with those innocent eyes.

She really looked like Kenny in a sense, at least when it came to facial features. Kenny looked a lot more broken down by life though. A lot skinnier too. He wondered if he always gave whatever food he got to her, to keep her healthy. Sure sounded like something he would do.

“W-Well geez, the house got kind of overrun by the…” He wasn’t sure what to call them. He clearly knew what they were, but calling his own parents zombies felt kind of wrong.

“Monsters?”

“Yeah…” He guessed, that even alive, his parents sometimes treated him like monsters. “Yeah, the monsters.”

When he was younger, he never really understood it. He never even noticed it, despite it being so blatant. He really loved his parents and even when they treated him like shit, he convinced himself that he deserved it. He deserved to be punished for the smallest things, he deserved to be punished for acting like a regular kid. Only much later did he start seeing through the bullshit, but the mistreatment never quite stopped. He started being more scared of them, especially his father. He started feeling something like resentment too. Everything seemed to make sense after that, when he started noticing the pitiful looks from other kids when they saw him interacting with his parents.

One time, Kenny and Eric even confronted him about it. Although the conversation went along the lines of Eric laughing at him and Kenny asking him if he was okay and telling him that he could crash with him and Eric if things got out of hand, apparently those two often depended on each other for help. Surprisingly, Eric didn’t crack any jokes about that or push him away. Maybe because he had a troubled home life too. Both of them did. It was… reassuring, knowing he wasn’t all on his own. Even if the only people who understood him were the two most troubled kids, the biggest loners in South Park, as described by the other kids.

That’s why, when he saw his parents turn into those monsters and watched them stumble up the stairs towards him, just to hurt him again – he was horrified. Not because of them, not even because he killed them. He felt horrified because fighting back for the first time in his life felt good.

It felt freeing.

Was he sick?

Regardless of the guilt he felt for the complexity of his emotions, he brushed it aside and continued the conversation.

“What did you need, Karen?” The little girl fiddled with her fingers.

“Can we… watch a movie?” She needed to be distracted from the lack of her brother’s presence.

“Movie?”

“Yeah, it’s so quiet here all the time, it’s scary. And I saw there were Disney movie DVDs on the shelf, but I can’t reach them.” He couldn’t help smiling at that, maybe that was just what he needed to distract himself too.

“Yeah, which one do you want to watch first?”

“I wanna watch The Conjuring!” Ike yelled from the living room, as if he couldn’t just look out the windows to see horror.


	12. This is a B grade horror at best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to threaten me in the comment section below as that is the only valid force of motivation

**15:32**

After what seemed to be an eternity of taking small detours and getting annoyed by the GPS lady’s voice – which consisted of Eric yelling at her and denying the fact that she, in fact, wasn’t a human being that could respond back, they passed the road sign to Denver. There were a lot of car crashes judging by the amount of thrashed cars and a lot of the people that didn’t die of head trauma during one were reduced to road kill by none other than Stan and the old car his dad left him for his last birthday. Quiet and emotionless was rare for the boy, maybe he just had a lot on his mind. Still, he pulled into a gas station to make a stop. Thankfully, they made it to one at all, he was getting nervous about running out in the middle of a herd.

“Need to fill her up, cover me.” Stan said as he got out of the car and casually strolled towards the fuel dispenser, pulling the hose out and pumping his car full as if a dozen of zombies wasn’t just hurrying towards him on their little dead feet as fast as they could manage.

Eric was the first to get out of the car, picking the heavy sledge hammer up over his shoulder and swinging into the nearest zombie’s head full force. It made a rather disgusting sound as it got hit and it sounded even more gross as its head hit the pavement and blood alongside brain matter spilled out like a water fountain. Not one of those good ones though, more like those shitty, school ones that barely squirt water. Like a bad jerk off kind of force. Kenny followed right after, utilizing his crowbar as slapping the zombies around over the heads repeatedly rather than offing them as they came like Eric. Hey, he seemed to be having fun at least.

Kyle watched them, noticing those sickly sweet smiles. He knew those two were fucked up and it made sense for them to be friends, but for some reason he wasn’t as disturbed as he probably should be by the fact that his two friends held no moral dilemma over smashing a person’s head in, even if they were, uh, dead. In fact, it made the insanity a little more sane a reality a little more unreal, so Kyle found himself smiling and thinking they were kind of adorable, as stupid and corrupt as they looked out there. It was something like a fever dream, or a really weird trip. They seemed to be handling themselves well though, so rather than helping, he pulled out the two empty canisters from the trunk and helped Stan fill those up as well.

Soon enough, all the zombies around the gas station were nothing but a pile of corpses on the ground and it didn’t seem like there was any more coming, at least not in that moment. So Kenny rudely nudged one with his foot, observing it, while Eric nonchalantly walked over and all over them towards the station.

“Where are you going, fat ass?” Kenny spoke as he looked towards him.

“Snacks.” That word alone was enough to get Kenny to follow right after him like a puppy.

Any chance at free food he got, he took. The brand new USA might actually be Kenny’s American Dream, free shit everywhere! Eric felt the same though, even though murder without consequence was the main reason. He really could get his anger out, it felt great. Unlike the rest of them, Eric had no trouble dehumanizing the walking corpses. Hell, he had a problem seeing other people as fellow humans, so maybe being one of the crazies was just what was needed in an apocalyptic scenario.

“Hey,” Eric’s voice was quieter and deeper than his usual pitch, “how was it?”

“How was what?” Kenny followed behind, stopping at an aisle and looking over his now many free options of instant noodles, instant mac’n’cheese, instant soup… Eric walked through, towering over the shorter than average shelves and looking over each side to made sure the things on the floors were just spilled groceries rather than lurking zombies. He couldn’t imagine them lurking around, waiting for some dumbasses like them to come waltzing in like they own the place and attacking them. They couldn’t be intelligent, they were dead. Right?

“How was being a zombie, I mean. I didn’t get a chance to ask you before.” Kenny actually had to stop and think for a little while, looking up above the flickering lights that illuminated the mess on the floors. Surely, there was a panic and a lot of people ran. Most likely though, they were attacked, otherwise there might not have been as much food left behind.

“I, uh,” he scratched the back of his head as his gaze shifted down towards his shoes, “I don’t remember.”

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t remember?”

“What I said. I don’t remember, dude. One second I was dying and shit and the next I woke up to your ugly face. It was like… anesthesia, or something. Like, you know how they just inject you with something and you’re instantly out cold and you don’t know and don’t see it coming and then a split second later you’re conscious again. It’s like that, but a more violent wake up call. ” Rather than focusing on the insult, Eric felt nervous.

Kenny was the only person who ever lived to tell what was after death. He recalled those words, sometimes he saw a bright light, sometimes heaven or hell. It was a weird reassurance to know that there was something out there, however the answer to turning was anything but. It made sense in a way, he was dead, but for some reason the body imitated sentience and the conflict between that repressed him from coming back to life. It felt like they hit a paradox with this one, something that wasn’t ever supposed to happen and now it was too incomprehensible for the universe itself. It seemed like there was no resolution.

“Fuck…”

 

**15:40**

“Hey…” Kyle tried, but getting Stan’s attention proved to be more difficult than he could remember. The poor guy just squat there, entirely focused on stocking up on gas and probably thinking about all the possible scenarios that they were going to need to fight through if it came down to it. At least he was functioning and not just a depressed mess like that one time she broke up with him.

“Where are we going exactly?” He said a tiny bit louder, this time catching Stan’s attention.

“Uh, they were supposed to go to this high school not far from here, actually. I haven’t seen a crashed bus on the way here, so they must have made it.” He didn’t finish what he really thought though and what really got him in this mindset to begin with.

Discouraged was the best way to describe it. Though, Kyle could imagine. Their school was an absolute mess and they were only a little mountain town, he couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like at a school inside of a major city that was clearly compromised. Other than the zombies out on the streets creeping in the distance and the dozen at the gas station, the outside world was more quiet than he expected. How could he explain it? He sort of… expected there to be a lot more noise, a lot more people outside wreaking havoc, or at least the typical zombie movie cute girl being chased by the dead and yelling for help. Maybe they missed that part and it was good they did.

All of it, every single inch of cement and grass felt like a true ghost town. Terrifying and chilling. It was so lonely out on the streets this way, he could only assume that the survivors kept themselves locked away in their own homes, hoping for this shit to pass. They should too, but maybe it was a good thing. For some reason, Kyle felt more scared of the living than the dead. Wasn’t that like, a thing? Just from his encounter with Trent, who had a personal grudge against them, he got to get a first seat look at what the lack of care for life and morality would do to a person in the face of a lawless state. They shouldn’t be talking though, not like they were the most moral group of people around, even before all of this mess.

Then, the sound of familiar footsteps Kyle came to always recognize for some reason.

“Guys, look at this shit!” Eric’s voice was high pitched and cheerful.

“Woohoo!” Kenny added.

Kyle watched the two come out, using their shirts as makeshift bags in order to carry all the snacks they possibly could out of the gas station and grinning like a couple of dumb children that just won some sort of prize.

“Those two would pick food over their own mothers.” Stan snickered at the sight.

“Yeah, probably.”

He smiled.

 

**15:32**

The squeaking of the shoes reverberated against the freshly cleaned maple wood planks, accompanied with gasps and rigid breathing as the heavy doors fell closed with a sound much louder than anyone would like at the moment. The adrenaline and the racing heartbeat only slowed down after a thick branch was put in between the handles and they crashed to their knees with a force that would surely bruise.

“I hate these fucking skirts…” Annie whispered, audibly enough for the other girls to hear her in the dark and empty gymnasium.

“I can’t believe one almost got you because he grabbed your skirt!” Red said, shuddering at the very recent memory of continuously kicking a zombie’s head in with unfortunately very soft shoes.

It didn’t let go, Annie had the sole luck of her skirt ripping. They all bolted after that, but they didn’t make it very far from the main school building. It was unfortunate, but there was no opening to escape the school grounds at all, they were simply surrounded from every possible angle. However, it was far better than being cramped up in an infested building, the monsters right in front of the tiny classroom they got cramped in. The whole chaos of it all was a blur, at first they were in a normal school and within minutes there was chaos and the school was supposed to be on lockdown until the police arrived. They never arrived though.

“Lola,” Wendy looked at the poor girl lying down on the cold floor, still gripping her ankle in that makeshift bandage, “how’s the leg?”

The girl grimaced back at her, trying not to show just how fucked it felt at the moment. It was absolutely swollen and dark, at least from the peek she managed to get that morning. They knew they had to make it out of the classroom when they realized there was no help coming. It was a miracle Bebe and Nichole managed to carry her in that chaos into safety. Everything about that was just flashes of white in front of her eyes.

“It’s fine, really. I just sprained it. I should be healed in a few days.” She lied. She felt her bones crack when she fell as they practiced to get ready for their performance. It was only minutes after that when everything went downhill.

“Okay.” Wendy knew she lied as well, but it’s not like arguing with her about it would help anyway. It wouldn’t solve anything. Lola just wished they at least had some pain killers. That would solve one of the problems.

“We are so fucked.” Bebe spoke.

“Yeah.” They all agreed.

Wendy’s expression was blank in the face of whatever this could be called, it was like she couldn’t logically comprehend what just went down. Then, she smiled a little, albeit it was a somber smile.

“Hey, it’s like a B grade horror movie,” she said, “you know, how the cheerleaders always die?”

“Wow, life imitates art.” Annie commented.

“So, who’s the final girl?” Bebe laughed at that.

“Not me, I’m going down first.” Lola said, gesturing towards her fucked ankle with a grin.

“Don’t black people die first in those movies?” Nichole asked.

“The slutty girl always dies too. Personally, I think Wendy is the final girl.” Bebe sounded so sure, so confident about her knowledge on the bad and cliché horror genre. She must have watched a lot of those in order to fake being scared with Clyde so that she could get really close to him. Not like she had to try so hard, that boy had a boner for her since a long time ago.

“Shut up, nobody’s going to die,” Wendy rolled her eyes, pulling her phone out of her bra where she hid it in order to run, “I’m going to turn it on and try to contact someone else again.” She tried calling Stan before, but his phone was off, so she could only assume the worst, even though she didn’t want to. God, she was so scared there without him.


	13. The first final girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rex Orange County - Sunflower  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9e7K6Hx_rY

**16:00**

With the car parked off in a reasonable distance from the school and its engine off, the silence in the heavy air pushing against the pulled up windows seemed enough to crack them with any sort of soft vibration of sound. The tension was ripping into their backs and they couldn’t really bring themselves into moving an inch.

As they stared off to the left side, watching the building of the school completely surrounded by the dead with the density of osmium, they had a bad feeling. Only Kyle spoke then, with the softest voice he could muster up to his friend.

“Stan?”

“…Yeah?” It was hard to think.

“There’s no way we can get inside. We don’t even know if she’s really in there.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do then?”

The hesitation on his face was reflected in the window, furrowing his eyebrows just a tiny bit as he battled with his own thoughts and chased away the fear corrupting his bones, making his hands freeze on the steering wheel with a tightness accompanied with the one inside of his chest.

“I need to get in.”

“What if you find her, but it’s not her anymore?”

“I need to try.”

“Why?”

“Because we try and save the ones we love.” With those words, he let go of the steering wheel and opened the door, stepping out of his car as he watched on and pulled out his phone, possibly the most rational thing he did in a long time. Hey, maybe she would pick up and tell him where to look for her.

His finger hovered over her name for a few seconds, before pressing the call button and the sound of ringing filled his ears.

The phone was back on.

 

**16:00**

Exhaustion and hopelessness hung in the air, the quietness feeling like a stone crushing into soft flesh. Isolation was the biggest fear, even before the world had ended right in front of their eyes. Wendy watched on, hearing the soft bumps against the gymnasium doors, the moaning and groaning penetrating just softly enough for her to register. She didn’t know how many of them were in front of those doors and honestly, she didn’t want to. It felt like none of them even took a breath, as to not make even the slightest bit of noise. Hoping they would just pass and they could move on soon enough. Look for better shelter, look for supplies, look for the people they loved in hopes they were still alive. As her thoughts wandered, they came to a screeching halt when the screen of her phone down on the floor lit up and a loud tune filled the large and empty hall as if to reach every crevice and amplify it.

 _I want to know,_  
_Where I can go._  
_When you're not around,_  
_And I'm feeling down._

Her eyes widened as the gentle bumping against the doors turned into smashing and the branch between the handles snapped in half within seconds. Bebe reached out in those seconds to try and keep the doors closed, but stopped once the flood of the dead swarmed into the hall like spilling water, too fast to be stopped. As everything seemed to play out in slow-motion, she kicked her phone as hard as she could, watching it slide to the other end of the gym and reverberate the sounds of death in a corner away from them.

 _So won't you stay for a moment?_  
_So I can say,_  
_I, I need you so,_  
_'Cause right now you know._

The cheerful sounds played out like a joke as she recognized who this ringtone belonged to, but the violent echoes did not help much in attracting them towards the source of the sound, rather causing them to fill up the halls with what seemed to be a gruesome nightmare. The girls climbed the bleachers, but they followed. Wendy stayed low, helping pull Lola up as a few of the dead climbed after them, recognizing the sounds of steps hitting the bleachers alongside the panicked voices of the other girls. She could only drag another person upwards while a disgustingly cold hand and rotting face followed them for so long! She tried kicking it in the face, hoping it would at least stumble backwards, but its grips were strong and her shoe was too soft.

 _That nothing here's new,_  
_And I'm obsessed with you._  
_Then I fell to the ground,_  
_And you smiled at me and said._

As the small windows at the top of the bleachers were finally broken and Bebe’s arm was covered in deep slices and glass sticking out of the wounds, the girls made their way out through the window one by one. Wendy dragged Lola up towards the window successfully, immediately pushing her through the small space as the others called for them to jump quickly. She knew then, as she turned her face away for just a second to push Lola out, that they would catch her. She also knew, that when she stopped looking for that split second, there were those void of life hands grabbing onto her legs and her sides.

Not one, not two, not three.

She felt herself pulled.

 

**16:01**

As the ringing commenced, he stood there for a while, soon enough recognizing the soft tunes in a short distance away as they were overrun by a panic and the sight of the dead pouring into the gymnasium building to drown it out. The phone fell out of his hand, crashing onto the ground and with the crack of it his body turned on autopilot. He couldn’t quite catch a breath then as he started running forward, the axe in his hand seemingly the only saving grace he had as he straight abandoned his friends in the inner panic.

“Stan!” Kyle yelled after him, trying to catch up while his mind tried to run over whatever the fuck it was that he saw or heard.

“Fucking hippie.” Eric commented and he followed the guys, albeit at a slightly slower pace.

Not slow enough to lose them, just to keep himself in the back of the group. Kenny seemed to be the one that would catch up first, as he passed Kyle, diving head first into danger right after Stan. Kyle was very athletic, but his legs were shorter and Kenny had a lot more practice running from the cops at night than he would ever admit to anyone other than Eric. This was exactly the reason he had to come along too, he was almost certain Kenny would have to be put down like an old dog yet again. He almost wanted to stop himself and watch the disaster unfold, seeing as how reckless their actions were, and he did stop. But it wasn’t due to the amusement and the desire to watch his friends get nearly killed, it was because he saw a familiar van crashed in by a bunch of other cars. The front of it looked completely destroyed, but the color spreading across the rest of it was a disgusting shade of silver, or rather a very faint grey that made his stomach turn as he stared at it in disbelief and debated with himself whether to look inside or not.

Kyle noticed this, as the annoying footsteps of heavy duty boots a few feet behind him ceased and he turned his head around to look, only to find the boy standing there with an expression way too genuine to be considered normal.

Eric couldn’t help himself looking inside, recognizing the bloodied and smashed in face even though it looked like half of it was gone beyond repair. He grimaced in confusion at the sight of her red lipstick blending in with the blood spilled from her forehead, staining her beautiful turquoise sweater in a disgusting shade of a dried up brown. He stretched out his hand forward almost robotically.

“Mom…?” His tone was weak and almost pleading as he shook her shoulder only to be met with a coldness and limpness he hadn’t anticipated, watching her body slump forward, face first onto the horn on the steering wheel, the loud noise filling the street all around them, but he couldn’t move. He stood there, completely shell-shocked.

He caught himself thinking, would he have rather seen her turned?

“Cartman, move!” Kyle yelled after him, as he noticed the herd now walking towards them and some even out of the gym in front of them while Stan and Kenny seemed to hurl themselves right through them. He stood there in the middle of the scene, considering the incredible danger his two friends were in as they threw themselves into death’s arms and then his sort of friend-ish enemy as he stood there pathetically for no apparent reason. He needed to help Stan push through and he knew it.

“For fuck’s sake!”

He knew it, so why did he find himself turning away and running right towards the fat bastard and pulling on his hand?

 

**16:02**

_You know you need to get yourself to sleep,_  
_And dream a dream of you and I._  
_There's no need to keep an open eye,_  
_I promise I'm the one for you._

The lyrics became clearer as he pushed through, running on nothing than adrenaline alone, coming in a way too close contact with hands and mouths of corpses than he would like to. He didn’t really stop though, didn’t use his axe to kill them, rather to push them away from his body, stop them from gripping onto him and slowing him down. Most of them were too preoccupied with trying to follow the car horn out on the street, so they didn’t specifically chase after him until they got too close. He didn’t really see the danger in those moments though, all he saw were the open doors only a few feet away, reaching out desperately as he ran inside, actually killing the zombies that remained drawn to the music.

 _Just let me hold you in these arms tonight,_  
_I'm lucky to be me and you can see it in my face._  
_Back when I fucked my shit up too many times,_  
_Why would I let myself get down in the first place?_

As he cleared the crowd around the phone in the corner well enough to see, his eyes fell on the red heart charm he got her randomly one time at a mall. It looked really ugly and way too big to be a phone charm, but she kept that cheap thing on her phone ever since he gave it to her. He saw his own name lit up on the screen then and as Kenny stormed inside, closing the doors behind him and taking over the job of smashing heads in of whatever monsters were left inside, he lifted his gaze up and felt himself pulled towards the bleachers.

His heart sank in his chest and it broke harder than it ever did before. The first time she broke his heart was back in elementary school, in fourth grade, when she broke up with him to date another guy. Now, the second time, he was looking at her torn apart body, flesh ripped into on multiple places of her exposed body, but most notably on her neck as the long strands of black hair fell behind her shoulder with the twitching of her body, revealing a wound gruesomely big and deep, you could almost see the carotid arteries ripped in half. The blood dripped down the bleachers and the magnitude of it seemed that she bled dry.

He kind of just stared ahead at her skin so much paler than what it should be even though they were from a cold little mountain town, the cute cheerleader outfit stained and soaked through and through, the eyes that used to look at him with so much love unfocused and almost certainly blind to the sight ahead.

 _And so she sat me down and told me that I didn't have to cry,_  
_Said I didn't need to get down or feel empty inside._

He caught himself thinking, would he have rather seen her dead?

 

**16:03**

_And then told me that she'll love me for as long as she's alive._


	14. You can still jerk with the other.

**16:03**

“What the fuck, Cartman?!” Kyle whispered as the automatic doors behind them finally stopped continuously opening and closing because of the few dead loitering around and triggering the sensors.

He had to kill them while Eric just stood there, still frozen in place and looking down at the white floors of the emergency room as if in a trance. Usually the sociopath with no regard for human life would have been the first one to start swinging.

“Shit, what’s wrong with you?” Kyle’s voice softened up, letting go of the harsh tone when he realized that that approach wasn’t going to get him any answers, nor would it help the situation. Besides, the emotions shown on Eric’s face seemed too genuine and involuntary. He wasn’t used to seeing him like this, not with the tears suddenly falling down cheeks as Eric quickly snapped back and tried to wipe them away. Then why did this expression seem familiar?

“Sorry,” his voice was quiet and hoarse, “I just got something in my eye. What’s up, Jew boy?”

“Cartman, what happened?” Kyle’s voice and expression were too gentle and Eric found himself breaking under them.

“I saw my mom.” Under any other circumstances, those words would have been muttered in annoyance and in reference to an old porn magazine or a video lost in the depths of the internet. Under these circumstances, one would think those words would have a different expression matched to them. But they didn’t, and Kyle found himself holding the bastard in his arms as he quietly sobbed into his shoulder.

The embrace, the warmth of his body, the wetness that soaked into his shirt within mere seconds accompanied by muffled cries of someone who was holding onto the last pieces of a persona that was too arrogant to show any sort of honest weakness, even the familiar setting of depressing white walls and the scent of sanitization to perfectly match the medical setting. It felt like he had seen him mourn just like this a long time ago, but no one they knew died.

Right?

 

**16:03**

And then, the music stopped as the slow motion scene of being trapped in one’s memoria accelerated into a wildly spinning film, where the cassette’s contents spilled out completely. The boy reached out his hand towards the crawling remnants of an empty shell of someone who he used to love. Who used to love him. He was needing with the clink of the heavy axe in his hand hitting the ground next to his feet, as those feet stepped forward in a trance, weaponless – reaching out for any piece of her that could still be hiding behind those dead eyes.

There had to be something left.

She had to be there.

She had to—

“Stan!” A distressed scream resounded in his ears from behind as the senses of pain snapped him back to reality only for his heart to stop and his eyes to well up at the realization of his death settling atop his skin by the very corpse of who he tried to save.

Wendy bit him.

She wasn’t there.

Kenny seemed to have appeared right behind him within just a second, smashing the girl’s head open until she let go, stopped moving, stopped twitching. Despite the shock, Stan found himself saddened she was forced to let go, saddened she was forced out of this world a second time. Only then did it dawn on him that there was no way of saving her from the very beginning. It was hopeless, he was chasing something he could never catch up with. He brought his hands up towards his face, swallowing a cry and gasping for a breath, the burning of the bite on his hand the testament of his failure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Kenny paced around in a panic, his mind going into overdrive before his gaze landed on the axe on the ground. It was covered in blood from the dead, but he picked it up regardless and at least wiped it on his orange hoodie before glanced at Stan.

“Stan, I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!”

Stan couldn’t even process of what had just happened, let alone backtrack on Kenny’s logic and try to yell out, try to tell him not to do it – before his hand was stretched out on top of the first bleacher lowest to the ground, a shoe pressed into his hand with a force he never associated with the kind and gentle friend before, and the force of his own axe ripping through his right forearm, flesh and bone opening up and breaking like it were just a log cut down, but the feeling or lack thereof and the excruciating pain engulfing the open wound of where his hand used to be was enough for his vision to blur and his head to hit the ground.

The blood pooled quickly and Kenny gripped his hair with the grim realization of what the fuck he had just done.

 

**16:04**

The vibrating sensation in his pocket was enough of a reminder to pull away from Kyle. He couldn’t really look him in the eyes as he did, but as he put the phone up to his ear and heard the panicked gasping and slurring of Kenny, he snapped right back towards Kyle. He brainstormed how to reacted, whether to tell Kyle at all or just knock him out right then and there in order to keep him out of the way while he tried to fix everything, but the volume on his phone was too loud and he could tell in Kyle’s horrified expression that he heard those agonized words.

_“Eric! Stan got bit, I had to cut off his arm, I had to! He’s unconscious and bleeding, I don’t know what to do! Fuck!”_

“You did fucking what?!” Kyle called out, gripping Eric’s wrist as he pulled the phone down towards him, trying to search for anything on the screen that would indicate it was a mistake or just a really bad joke, but when the seconds passed in a silence, suddenly he felt nauseous.

_“I’m sorry, Kyle.”_

 

**16:05**

He was caught off guard by hearing Kyle’s voice. Whenever there was a tough situation, he would always go to Eric, because for some god forsaken reason he always knew what to do, and even if he didn’t, he came up with the best possible plan and hoped for it to work. Usually it did too. He was sorry, because this one might have been a long shot. He should have been faster. He should have killed Wendy first instead of declining the call. He should have gone ahead of Stan. He should have been faster. The pool of regrets flooded his mind as he imagined every way this scenario could have gone so much better if he just tried harder, but everything already happened and the consequences were making his stomach turn.

By the sound of the voice, Eric seemed to have collected himself much faster. He knew he could depend on him.

_“Calm down, Kenny. How much is it bleeding?”_

“I don’t know, pretty bad—”

_“Wrap it up with as much fabric as you can. Put pressure on it and keep the arm elevated.”_

“Okay.” He put the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he fiddled with everything, doing the best he could with what he was told.

 _“Is the blood soaking through?”_ Kenny stared for a few seconds, watching it like a hawk for any red spots.

“Not yet.” He decided on that answer.

_“Alright. Kenny, I know he went into shock, but there’s an urgent care clinic right across the street. It has a big red sign, you can’t miss it, we are there. Kyle is making sure everything in here is empty and safe. I need to get shit ready for an emergency surgery if I can. You’re going to have to carry him here yourself. Can you do that?”_

Everything seemed to be happening too fast as he tried to process it, he wasn’t quite as much of a fast thinker as Eric and Kyle were, but despite the trust in his friends, he was starting to lose hope and doubt himself that he made the right choice. He butchered his arm right off with a dirty axe. The wound left wasn’t a pretty sight, it looked completely botched. But what else was he supposed to do? He got bit before, he experienced how fast he started feeling the effects, how fast he started dying. In the race against time, he picked that axe up. As he put Stan’s limp, yet breathing body on his back and started walking, he wondered if he saved him or just accelerated his meeting with the reaper. The arm sticking out forward with a sad stump wasn’t doing his anxiety any favors either.

“I’m on my way.”

 

**16:10**

As Stan was lied down on the cold operating table, that’s when Kenny noticed Eric approach with a medical book and lie it down on top of Stan’s chest open at the pages explaining amputation. Now he really felt like becoming sick, but instead he was sent to wash and disinfect his hands, because he was going to need to help him with this. Maybe he should have left him undead for longer, he would have gladly sat this one out.

Just as he turned around, he watched the makeshift bandages get ripped off and blood spilling out after it. The stump was quickly washed off just when Kyle walked in and locked the door behind them, stopping dead in his tracks at that gruesome sight. He seemed to have paled, but Kenny guessed so would any normal person. It was pretty much a miracle how they were all keeping it together, at least to an extent. Well, not like they had any other choice. You either suck it up, or let your friend die. Sometimes that’s just the way life goes. Kenny remembered when Eric tried to save his life too, it was the very first time anyone tried and failed. He didn’t see Stan when he died, the poor guy couldn’t really handle it. Now he kind of understood why, though. He felt that if he looked away for a second, he would find himself running away down the hall.

“Kenny, I need you to hold him down in case he regains consciousness.” The way he said that sent chills down his spine. For some reason he couldn’t step forward and do as he was told.

“You didn’t inject him with anything?!” Kyle interjected immediately, horrified at what was happening once a complex looking device was pulled out and the gloves hands started cauterizing the veins to stop the blood loss.

“Well, I’m sorry, Kyle! I had five minutes to learn about amputation and I have no fucking idea about the dosages of anesthesia or how and where to locate nerves in the body! I could kill, or worse, cripple him. You’re welcome to try it yourself, if you have any common sense though, you hold him down instead.” He couldn’t believe that they were arguing even in this situation.

“Oh, fuck off!” Yet he did step forward and placed his hands onto Stan’s shoulders while glaring daggers at Eric, making sure he wasn’t doing more damage than help.

For once, Kenny felt like a coward.

Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to stop pretty quickly and with some miracle, it appeared the bone had broken off relatively cleanly, which was a good thing since they didn’t have much time to spare on being thorough. Once the exposed flesh and muscle seemed to be okay, Eric pulled the skin over it with a surprising gentleness and started sewing it shut. There was enough skin left so that there was no need to cut into the bone deeper. Just like with that bullet before, Stan was one lucky fucker. Still, he got bit and that thought lingered on Eric’s mind. Every few stitches his eyes looked up to check whether he was still breathing. So far, so good. He disinfected the stump and wrapped it up in sterile bandages, but even though he should feel relief that it went so well, his heart beat alongside the ticking of the clock on the wall, counting down to the minutes passing to a possible turning. Even though the arm was cut off so quickly, he was still bit and they had absolutely no idea how bites worked yet. Amputation might have not worked. The fact that Stan looked like complete shit due to blood loss and shock didn’t help either – he was either dying or having a completely normal reaction to his friend axing his fucking arm off unexpectedly. Who knows? All he could do for now was elevate his feet while he laid there and wait.

 

**16:33**

Then, the unconscious body suddenly shot up and they all almost fell off their seats in fear before they heard the very human scream.

“Kenny, don’t!” He gasped for air, engulfed in the burning sensation at the end of his right arm. He made the mistake of following the pain with his gaze.

It was too late.

“Well,” Eric spoke up with a slight shiver in his voice, trying to be positive, “at least you are left-handed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't attempt to treat traumatic amputation at home kids
> 
> im not a doctor, im sure there are medical inaccuracies in this chapter and I apologize, I always try to research as much as possible for my scenes but theres only so much you can do with google and I decided that a high schooler should be just as clueless in this scenario, hopefully I didn't disappoint you!


	15. Yelling at God helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on vacation for a week, so I'll get back to comments whenever I can!

**16:35**

Not only was it surreal for Stan to wake up with one of his hands missing, but so it was for the three boys to watch him wake up fine. Well, as fine as he could be in these circumstances. He was still alive and it didn’t look like he was going to turn, but the timer wasn’t up yet and that was making them all tense. Half an hour to an hour – and no one knew what the deciding factor was for that time span. It was too early to tell, it had only been two days since the outbreak started in their little home town. So why did it feel like so much longer? They all looked exhausted and drained. It felt like too much to handle all at once. In these past two days Stan got shot, caused the death of the love of his live, got bitten, got his hand amputated while still conscious and had Eric Cartman of all people perform an emergency surgery. Now it felt like he was waiting for a conclusion, whether he was going to live or die.

“So, when can we get the fuck out of here?” Stan asked, tugging slightly at the rope around his left wrist tying him down onto the operating table. He didn’t question it, since he already knew why they did that.

“We are going to wait the full hour and see how you’re doing…” Kyle’s voice matched the sadness reflected in his eyes. He wished he could be irrational and just argue and fight, but he knew that there was no point to fighting something they had no power over, if it were inevitable. The only sliver of hope was how Kenny acted so fast.

“Don’t worry, Stan, you’ll be fine and we will look for an exit out of here as soon as we can. It’s already a good sign you’re awake.” Kenny seemed more hopeful, even though Stan got the sense that he was full of regret for some reason.

“Yeah,” Eric spoke up then, “didn’t actually think you’d wake up. Thought we were going to have to leave you here.”

As always, Eric was rather insensitive, but Stan couldn’t bring himself to be mad about it or even care. In the end, it was him who stopped the bleeding and stitched him up, for the second time. There was a mask that Stan was starting to see through and it showed very blatantly that his words didn’t match up with his actions very well. It was almost like he was trying to hide something by acting like a jackass. Well, not like he could focus on uncovering the mystery that was the fat ass, the pain felt fucking unbearable.

“Hey, can I get something for the pain? I feel like my arm is burning up.”

“Sure. I think I saw Oxycodone somewhere around. Kenny, can you come help me look?”

“Yeah.” The boy immediately got up, following outside just to help the damage he caused.

 

**16:45**

“Where do you think you saw it—” His question was interrupted as a set of very serious eyes looked back at him. The guilt welling up inside him was painful and he knew exactly what his friend was thinking.

“Don’t.” Kenny said before Eric could get a word in. “If I fucking knew that he was going to reach for her, I would have killed her first. If I had any sort of time to run in between, I would be the one dying again. You know I wouldn’t put anyone before me.”

And even though it was the truth and his undeniable feelings, it still hurt. Like he was disposable, like his life meant less, his experience of pain meant less – only because he could always bounce back. It was fucking unfair, but he never complained about it, so he didn’t want to hear it from Eric.

“So the stupid hippie did it to himself. That’s not what I was going to ask though.” It was a relief, but now Kenny felt stupid for defending himself like that. Like he was trying to prove something to himself rather than the others.

“What were you going to ask?”

“He looks like complete shit, I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t like how Eric sounded. Or what he was saying at all, for that matter.

“What were your symptoms after being bitten?” Kenny took a step back to think, come to think of it, he looked pretty much the same back then as Stan did now. The pale skin, the sunken eyes, all that sweating and the apparent delirium. It just seemed to act faster with him.

“Well, I remember feeling really hot, like the bite on my arm was on fire. I was sweating a lot and I felt really fucking nauseous, but I didn’t eat anything that day, so I don’t think I would have thrown up either way. I didn’t really process it until the last minutes though, I was running on autopilot to make sure Karen’s safe and to save your dumb asses.”

“So your body was chock full of adrenaline.” He stated.

“I guess so.” The confirmation was all Eric needed to draw a conclusion. This whole thing was a fucking mess.

“That might be why he hadn’t turned yet. He lost a lot of blood and was unconscious for half an hour, so his blood pressure is low. Whatever the thing is that triggers the process of dying after a bite, it didn’t have the time to infiltrate his whole body yet. He’s either going to die within the next few moments, or because of an infection due to a botched amputation.”

The negativity and the seriousness was uncharacteristic, but Kenny could recall a few moments in his childhood when Eric behaved uncaring and pessimistic about someone or something, particularly some of his own deaths. However, what he didn’t remember was the very slight spark of actually caring. It was almost scary as to how much Eric managed to shape his attitude according to a survival situation. Maybe it was the fact that he was narcissist and he couldn’t bear the thought of being left all on his own, without people to put down. Or maybe it was the fact that they truly were his only friends and the only people who ever showed any sort of concern for him, maybe he was self-aware enough to realize that. However, trying to read Eric Cartman was like being blind and trying to read a flat page. There was nothing there that could indicate an answer.

“He might still be fine, I axed his arm off really quickly, and you did a good job fixing my mess.” He often did. Whenever it was needed, he always did try to save his friends, didn’t he?

“Yeah, he might.” Eric nodded as he looked through the shelves of medication, until he finally grabbed a bottle of Fentanyl, but also grabbed some Xanax and slipped it into his own pocket. Kenny didn’t say anything to that. Honestly, he felt like he should pop a pill or two as well.

 

**16:51**

His body trembled as took a sip from the glass of water offered to him, feeling heavier than ever before, just by holding his chin up to drink. He felt like he would fall to the ground if he wasn’t sitting down. Stan saw a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room and his heart clenched behind his ribcage. Something about the way he looked felt familiar and terrifying.

The ticking clock was scarier.

“Found it, also you’re not supposed to be drinking.” Eric spoke as he made his way back inside the room, approaching nonchalantly and pretending he hadn’t just declared Stan dead when he and Kyle weren’t there to listen.

“Give it to me.” And so he did, popping a pill into Stan’s mouth, not bothering to untie him to do it himself, or give him any more water.. Even if he did, Stan was too weak to do much himself. It looked bad and it felt even worse.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“I mean, what symptoms are you experiencing?” He didn’t really want to talk about that, but the expectant look he was getting from Kyle forced him into talking.

“Kind of nauseous. I feel like I can move my fingers, but they’re not there. It’s fucking confusing, dude. My arm feels like it’s on fire and it’s gross how much I’m sweating.” So far, any of those symptoms could be due to anything. It was hard to tell. Then, he noticed.

“Why are you trembling?”

“It’s fucking cold.”

He stared at Stan for a while as he said those words, there was one contradiction from Kenny’s experience and even though that was no guarantee for survival, it was at least something they could grab onto.

“Okay, lay back down.” And as he did, his legs were elevated and Kenny looked for any sort of cover, soon pulling out a blanket to cover Stan with. It’s the least he could do as the time was running out. Maybe he could find another one, but he didn’t want to leave.

 

**17:02**

“Cartman, if I turn in a minute, shoot me.”

“Sure.” It sounded like a fair enough request. He would want the same, especially since he learned that Kenny couldn’t remember what was after turning. Not like any of them knew about that, but the vulnerability and possibility of being lost and locked up in a decaying body for an eternity was too much of a fear to handle for anyone. It was like there was something scarier than death. He could imagine staying between life and death had to be more painful than the act of dying itself.

“Stan!” Kyle immediately stood up from his seat, grabbing Eric’s hand as it reached for his gun. He was way too trigger happy in his eyes. Eric felt confused, he was showing sympathy.

Then, as the clock turned—

 

**17:03**

There was silence.

The boys all looked at each other in bewilderment and none of them even took a breath as they assessed the display and the scene unfold in front of their eyes. There was something about knowing the time you were going to die and the clock turning to the exact second you were supposed to. He waited. Then, he waited some more. They all waited. However, the suffocating quietness soon ceased as Kenny took a deep gasp of relief and threw his hands up in the air.

“Fuck you!” He yelled at the window, probably screaming at God. Defying death was somewhat Kenny’s thing. The yelling of various curse words and middle fingers held up high belonged to the whole shtick too.

“Well, that was anticlimactic.” Eric muttered, with slight confusion in his voice. He expected a different outcome, but so did all of them.

“How are you, Stan?” Kyle let go of Eric and immediately tended to Stan, checking up on him.

“I think I’m fine.” He said, sort of in disbelief.

He was supposed to die and turn into a flesh eating monster right about now. In a way, it felt more surreal that he didn’t, even though there was a perfectly logical explanation as to why not. So removing the bite actually worked, even though there was such a short time frame between infection and death. Honestly, as the time passed on and on further, the fleeting ticking of the clock allowed him to breathe again in relief. Fuck. He actually survived. What’s more, there was a chance to survive a bite. Right now, he was thankful that Kenny took the chance, no matter how traumatizing and painful it was. So it worked like in the movies, but he had to admit it looked uglier and felt way worse than the movies actually portrayed it.

He sort of just stared up at the fluorescent lights above his head, they felt against his skin and his eyes before, but right now he was just happy to be able to see them at all. To be able to hear the dumbfounded chatter of his friends as it sunk into background noise, to be able to feel his skin prickle as a needle was stuck into it and as IV fluids ran through his veins almost like a saving grace from what invaded them before. He felt like he could accept death, but the feeling of being alive was euphoric. He still felt like shit, but everything would pass in due time. Even something like this.


	16. Survival of the cutest.

**12:05**

“Really, I’m fine. I just want go home now.” Stan pleaded as he turned his face away from the bandages around his stump coming undone. Kyle was very thorough when it came to cleaning and dressing his wounds, so unfortunately this was going to take longer than he’d like.

“I want nothing more than to go home too, but you needed proper rest. Besides, you’ve seen the streets. No way we could get through that herd.” It was true, with all the noise happening outside, the streets became swarmed with a density he’d only seen on Black Friday before. Both were dangerous to be caught in the middle of, but it was making him antsy to be just locked in. He hated having to wait, especially when there was nothing or no one to wait for.

“It’s been five days.”

“I know.”

And all of the white lights were making him sick.

 

**13:00**

Just as a new bandage was wrapped up around the pitiful stump, the door swung open with Eric and Kenny returning. They’ve been going out pretty frequently, saying that they needed to scope out the area to make sure they could get home as safely as possible. Sometimes they came back with food, but Kenny always seemed to have a different brand of cigarettes on hand. Said he didn’t care what he was smoking, as long as he was smoking. Guess he was on edge, but he couldn’t blame him for that.

Ever since Kyle’s phone died and he couldn’t contact his little brother anymore, all sorts of scenarios started playing in his head. He didn’t know why, he had never been this paranoid before, always had trust in Ike. He tried not to show it, but he had the urge to just run out, take any car and book it home. Just to know everything was alright. Was this what it was like to be a parent? Was this bubbling feeling of anxiety bursting in his chest the same feeling their mother felt every time she freaked out or got angry because they did something stupid and dangerous? He really was taking after his mother, more and more each day as he started losing control over everything around him. He didn’t like to feel like he wasn’t in control. It was driving him mad.

So, when Kenny announced they found a way out and they should start packing up as much shit as possible, he did so without any question. He would take everything that seemed useful, even if they didn’t need it. As Eric said, it was better to have something they didn’t need that to not have it at all in an emergency. The fact that his best friend lost an arm just like that and they had to adapt very quickly to making sure he recovered was proof of that.

“How are you feeling?” Kenny asked, the guilt still present in his voice. It was painfully obvious.

“Well, it still hurts like shit, but the pain killers are helping.”

“Eric was saying it should be fully healed within a month or two, so it’s not going to hurt for that long.” At least he hoped so. He heard about phantom pain being a thing.

“So how long does it take to get used to it?” The question hung in the air, but it was left unanswered with only Kenny shrugging his shoulders and a solemn look on his face to accompany it.

 

**14:00**

Finally, he stepped out and air, so fresh yet so rotten with death and decay leaving its marks at every corner, hit his nostrils. It was nice to be outside again, but suddenly he missed the smell of sanitization products of the emergency room. At least it was fresher than corpses. Given that it was a week since the initial outbreak, most of what was left walking around didn’t only smell of blood, but the start of decomposition left behind a foul stench of rotten meat. The thought of having to get used to it was unnerving to say the least.

“Get in.” Eric’s voice caught Stan’s attention, his eyes following the gentlemanly act of opening the car door for him. Only, it wasn’t his seat.

“I thought I was driving.” He said.

“You lost an arm.” Eric argued.

“I only need one, my legs still work perfectly fine!” It was a bit irritating, he didn’t want to be treated any differently. He could still do everything, just with one less hand.

“Yeah, no. You’re not endangering the rest of us.” However, he didn’t elaborate on what he actually meant by that. Instead, he pulled him forward and practically threw him into the backseat. There was only one thing.

“Well, smartass, who’s going to drive then?” At that question, all of them looked at each other. It would have all been fine, but Stan was the only one who had an actual license. Kenny was too poor to afford classes, Eric simply didn’t care enough to get a license and Kyle, well—

“Don’t look at me like that.” Kyle muttered as he felt that devious grin from Eric ripping into his back.

“You can’t even see me!” He laughed.

“I can feel you!”

“Alright, alright. I will drive. I used to steal my mom’s van to get Denny’s with Kenny at 3am. If I can do that drunk, I’m pretty sure I can get us safely to South Park.”

Even though those words were supposed to be reassuring and comforting, for some reason, the image of Eric driving them home was more worrisome than being driven by a fresh amputee who suffered major blood loss and trauma only a few days ago. He really felt like he should take his chances with Stan, but the fat ass already sat down in the driver’s seat and started the engine. After much mental battling, Kyle did end up sitting down next to Stan in the back, but made sure to put his seatbelt on and start praying in his thoughts. It seemed safer.

“Just don’t crash it, fat ass.” Stan commented.

 

**16:34**

Everything seemed like a smear as the car drove off, surely speeding and ignoring traffic laws, only flashes of color fleeting behind the glass. It seemed noisy out there from where he lied with his head in his best friend’s lap. His anxiety was the culprit of the screams from the outside world he imagined in his head, even though he knew death was as silent as the car ride back home. They only seemed to slow down as the South Park sign came into view and Eric strategically picked to drive through the familiar streets that appeared to be empty. He wasn’t too reckless, maybe not law abiding, but Stan was thankful for that. He would hate to lose his dad’s car because of some road rage. However, the car suddenly stopped, but they weren’t home yet. They were at the back of a pharmacy. He was starting to grow an aversion towards all things medical.

“We should grab some shit while there’s no dead guys around. We will only take five minutes. Kyle, get in my seat and be ready to drive off if there’s trouble.” Eric spoke with an unusually calm voice, he seemed to be calmer and more rational these days and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get used to it, but he didn’t hate it either. However, his request was another thing.

“I can’t drive!” Kyle snapped back, but Eric was already opening the door and stepping outside, followed by Kenny wordlessly and almost on command. “You made me fail my driving test three times!”

“Kyle, your anger issues are what made you fail your driving test three times.” He commented, but there was a smirk on his face as Kyle climbed forward to glare at him and argue further.

“You purposefully distracted me—”

And before he could finish, the door was slammed in his face. With a sigh, he climbed into the driver’s seat and nervously gripped onto the steering wheel, as he tried to find the pedals with his foot. As he struggled and proceeded to get annoyed, his eyes snapped back to the seat. He needed to adjust it to his height. Peachy.

 

**16:35**

As Kenny walked beside him with a weird dog-like loyalty, he found himself itching for something that would calm his nerves, or at the very least numb him.

“Hey, what can I grab to get high?” He asked, half-jokingly. However, Eric didn’t laugh nor did he spare a glance at his friend as he already saw through him. He knew him too well, knew exactly what he was feeling and why he was asking.

“Any hydroxyzine. It will knock you right the fuck out.” Besides, it wasn’t addictive. They wouldn’t give it to kids otherwise.

They approached the backdoor carefully as it was already left slightly open. Albeit a little dark and messy inside, it seemed to be mostly intact. Shelves were stocked full of medications with the exception of a few empty spots and some stuff all over the floor. As Kenny closed the door behind them very carefully and quietly, he stepped forward only to notice the shadow of a figure in the dark. He gripped his crowbar to make sure it was still in his hand as he got so accustomed to carrying that thing around all the time and stepped forward, hoping to take it out without much of a fight. Eric seemed to have the same idea while he gestured to Kenny to go ahead, but that was when they noticed the figure wasn’t really making any noise, it was rummaging through the shelves. Eric reached for his gun then, thinking it might be worse if it was an alive one. Then, it turned around and faced them.

“Guys?” The messy brown hair, the freckles and the clear lisp was unmistakable. There was no one in South Park who wouldn’t recognize that, even if it was pitch black.

“Fuck, it’s just you.” Eric relaxed, even though he wasn’t exactly excited to see Scott Malkinson. Well, it could have been worse.

“Dude, you had me scared!” Kenny laughed, but then proceeded to hang the crowbar onto his belt loop and go behind the counter to grab some plastic bags which he could fill up with medication.

“You guys scared me as well! I thought I was done for when I heard footsteps.”

“It’s all good, let’s just get the shit we need and bail. Who knows what else might waltz in here. Speaking of, what exactly do we need to grab?” He looked at Eric, who was looking over shelves and started to throw some packets at Kenny.

“Strong pain killers, antibiotics, shit that makes swelling go down… Maybe get some antidepressants too. Just in case.” Stan might need it after all, he didn’t want to elaborate on that though. As it came to mental health, he wasn’t doing that well either, so he stepped behind Scott to look over some medications. Maybe he could find something for himself too.

“What do you guys need all that for?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott.” Eric immediately shut him down. He didn’t really want to elaborate on the whole amputation thing. He felt like he read too much about it in medical books already. It was all just a haze at this point. The sooner they got over it, the better.

“Anyway, Scott,” Kenny decided to continue the annoying conversation, “what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m just here because of my diabetes.” Eric froze up and slowly turned around to look at Scott, now noticing what exactly he was stuffing into his backpack.

“You went alone? That’s pretty dangerous.”

“It’s just a quick errand. I need to stock up on my insulin otherwise I’m screwed, there’s not much here though so that’s a disappointment. But the guys will come pick me up in a bit. Oh right, I’m staying with—”

Kenny turned to look around and only got a split second’s glance at Eric aiming his gun at the back of Scott’s head. Before he could process what he was seeing, a loud gunshot resounded within the walls of the little pharmacy and Scott’s words were cut off with his limp body crashing into the shelves before falling down onto the white tiles and bleeding out all over them. He was put down like an animal, without a thought. Without hesitation. Without doubt.

“What the fuck, dude?!” Kenny yelled as he jumped over the counter, trying to find anything in Eric’s face that would indicate a reason. He didn’t have to look for too long though, as Eric looked back at him with wide eyes. He was surprised, shocked even at his own actions. But he knew exactly why he pulled the trigger.

“Kyle needs it.”

Those were his only words, his only justification. And that was enough for Kenny to nod. Despite the shock and the anger and the horrifying sight of just plain, cold-blooded murder, it all seemed to melt in together with every other petrifying experience and sight that he witnessed in this past week. He quickly packed up and Eric grabbed the filled backpack as they hurried outside and rushed towards the car.

 

**16:40**

The car doors slammed shut as Kyle felt the weight of the two boys returning. He glance into the rearview mirror to see Kenny there, fiddling with his hands as he avoided looking anywhere but outside the window, the hood on his head preventing him from seeing the kind of face he was making. His gaze turned to his side then, where he found Eric. He’s never looked so genuinely terrified of anything before, but he was now.

“I heard a gunshot, are you alright?” Kyle asked carefully.

“Yeah.” He lied. “Just, a zombie came out of nowhere, scared the shit out of me so I shot. There was a shit ton of them out in the front and we barely got out. You should drive now, before they get out and block the road.”

Kyle couldn’t find it in him to question him any further, for some reason it felt like he shouldn’t. Not with the strange expression on his face and the way he gripped this backpack in his hands.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> diabetes affects us all but it mostly affects scott malkinson


	17. Don't kill my brother, you dildo!

**17:00**

Loud banging on the back door. It was easily recognizable, on the rare occasions it was actually heard. He usually let himself in, he would into his own house too if it weren’t for the drawer behind blocking it. He waited for a solid minute.

 

**17:01**

His patience wore thing quickly, so he jerked with the doorknob, only to find it open easily, open wide to what seemed to be an empty house, all except for the little girl running back down in her socks, hitting the floorboards and giving them a dumbfounded look as she halted in her way, expecting to see another face.

“Butters, did you find—” She stopped herself, her gaze caught on the face with the healing bruises. Then she quickly ran into her brother’s arms.

“Where is that asshole?” Eric asked, sighing and stopping himself from cussing him out about why he left the back door open and vulnerable like that, especially with the kids inside. Even he knew that was a stupid idea. He could have just waited for them to—

“He went looking for Ike…” She spoke softly, almost whispered it as she felt the anxiety in the air rise up, Kyle’s panicked stare aimed at nothing in particular. He was shaking, but only for a second before he turned around and started walking out, with only Eric’s hand grabbing his arm and stopping him. He felt petrified.

“What do you mean?” Eric’s voice sounded nervous. “Where did Ike go?”

“He must have snuck out at night. He said before that he wanted to go look for his brother.”

Then, Kyle ripped himself out of Eric’s grip.

 

**24 HOURS AGO**

Babysitting was hard. That’s what Butters realized as he spent most of the past week sat at the kitchen table where he had the best view of what was happening with the kids. Usually they’d be sitting in front of the TV, watching DVDs of old movies that they could find scattered across the house. Most of them consisted of a weird combination of slasher horror and Disney movies, which wasn’t all that surprising considering who lived in the house.

They hadn’t been in contact for the past three days. Guess no one bothered to take their chargers on a rescue mission, they must have thought it’d take them a day at most to get Wendy and get back. The last message on his screen was lit up with disappointment and that feeling of helplessness that he didn’t want to admit to. He couldn’t afford to.

[kenny]: fucked up, will be stuck in Denver for a while, don’t let the kids out your sight

He was thankful he didn’t have any siblings in that moment. The stomping around that Ike made sure he heard was enough to convince him he didn’t want to be a parent either. How did Kyle and Kenny do it? They practically parented those two, but it showed which sibling belonged to who quite clearly. The Broflovski impatience and temper seemed to be something that was passed along generation by generation, no matter if they were actually connected by blood. Guess he was frustrated by the vague messages he got from Kyle, they didn’t really explain anything of what was going on nor what went wrong that they got stuck in that dangerous place, but he couldn’t ease Ike’s worries either. He was none the wiser about the situation. It was like something happened they couldn’t talk about, or that they couldn’t possibly explain.

The little boy looked at him, determination in his eyes.

“I’m going to look for Kyle.” Ike said.

He didn’t believe him.

That was his first mistake.

 

**16 HOURS AGO**

Falling asleep on that very counter was his second mistake.

 

**11 HOURS AGO**

Waking up way too late was his third mistake.

When he made breakfast and called for the kids, but only Karen showed up, he knew something was wrong. When he called for Ike again and didn’t get a response, he went through every room in the house only to find it empty. His heart raced as he returned, looking at the little girl sitting down at the kitchen table, fork in hand and her feet dangling from the chair that she was still too short for.

“Where is Ike?” He asked, but was met with no answers.

She didn’t know.

All either of them knew was that he needed to look for his brother.

So he stormed out without a second thought, maybe he could still catch up to him. He couldn’t have been gone for too long, he still had to be in South Park. Right?

 

**9 HOURS AGO**

Ike stared ahead quietly. Standing at four feet and seven inches tall, he didn’t find it much difficult to hide from monsters that weren’t very intelligent to begin with. They seemed to react to noise and the freshness of the meat. He noticed that because he had seen someone get attacked as he observed from the window, it seemed that within minutes after a bite, the zombies wouldn’t try to attack anymore, which was obscure at first, but apparently after a bite, they could smell the infection on the victim. It made him think, maybe this wasn’t about predators attacking to eat prey, they barely fed on their victims, not like in those horror movies where hordes would rip someone’s whole guts apart and feed on their still living body. Those weren’t predators. Those were only hosts for an aggressive transmittable disease. Like STDs, but worse. The infection wanted to spread, nothing more and nothing less.

It was interesting to observe, but he found himself stuck hiding in a narrow alleyway, watching a lot of them pass through. They didn’t get tired, that was for sure. When he asked Kyle before, if he thought they were still human, he didn’t answer. He could just imagine the face he made at seeing such a serious question pop up on his phone screen from his innocent little baby brother. He was far from innocent and far from a baby, that’s why he felt the need to go out at dawn and try and rescue his brother. For all he knew, him and his stupid friends got themselves into major trouble. Somehow they always managed to. It was ridiculous.

Finally, after about an hour of being cramped up inside the tight alleyway he saw an opening and ran for it. All the dead were dispersed in a reasonable distance. He was short and fast, he could just bolt and they wouldn’t be able to grab him even if they heard him making noise.

So he ran, the adrenaline rushing through his veins as the South Park sign came into view. That old and ugly thing never got replaced, it really made them look like some redneck down, despite all the efforts to seem progressive. Whatever, he was nearly there, but then—

“Fuck!” He squealed as the back of his hoodie was grabbed and he nearly fell to the ground. He’d have struggled, but he felt the hand pull him up to prevent him from falling, like it was human. He turned to look.

It was Butters.

“Hamburgers!” The boy gasped for air, it seemed that he gave it his all to catch him. Ike almost felt bad. Almost.

“Let go of me.” He demanded. He knew it was dangerous, but there was obviously something wrong, he had to make sure his brother wasn’t in trouble, or better, get him out of trouble.

“Oh, no!” His expression looked more stern than usual, like he was actually being assertive. “You’re not sneaking out, I’ll get in trouble! I promised the guys that I would look after you and that nothing will happen to you! I’m not letting go!”

“Come on—” His pleading was interrupted then, as s loud pick-up truck screeched to halt in front of them.

It looked too bright and frankly, too douche-y to belong to anyone that didn’t plan on causing trouble. Instinctively, Butters pulled Ike behind him in a wasted effort to not let them see him or his face. Maybe they could avoid trouble and just get back home, even if he had to drag this kid by the ear. However, one of the guys pulled up with a rifle in his hand and stared at him with a crazed look on his face.

He’d recognize that face anywhere.

 

**17:02**

“For fuck’s sake, Kyle! Calm down.” He tried as he grabbed onto Kyle’s shoulders, turning him around to face him only to find the expression of utter despair, eyes welling up with tears. It was like he could feel Kyle’s heart ripping inside of his own chest. Fuck, he wanted to look away, but he couldn’t.

“He went looking for me, if anything happens to him, it’s my fault!” It was hard to understand him through the sobbing.

“Nothing will happen to him, it’s Ike we are talking about! He hunted down Garrison, remember? Your little brother is a little genius, he’s completely fine!” He tried, but the sobbing wouldn’t stop. Fuck, what was he supposed to do to calm down a hysterical Jewish mother?

“I need to find him, I need to—” Eric cut him off as he pulled him into his arms, hugging him firmly. He wasn’t sure whether it was actually working as a means of calming him down or he simply knocked the wind out of him by pulling him close so unexpectedly. Whatever, it seemed to relax his muscles as the tension left, but the tears continued.

“Look,” Eric spoke, “Butters went looking for him and he probably already found him. He knows not to let anything bad happen, especially when I tell him to. They probably just stopped at some candy store and waited for an opening to get back home.”

He felt a little nod against his chest, so he continued.

“Calm down, all we need to do is call Ike and tell him you’re home and that he’s grounded for sneaking out. Right?”

“Mhm.” He slowly pulled away then, wiping his tears and reaching for the phone in his pocket.

As the screen lit up and he scrolled for Ike’s name in his contact list, suddenly the TV in the living room turned off to leave a black screen, as did the little lamp in the dark corner of the room. His gaze turned back down at his phone screen, seeing the letters in the upper left corner manifesting into his own personal nightmare.

_No Service_


	18. Don't kick the baby, it'll lose a shoe.

**2 MONTHS LATER**

**6:34**

The clock on the wall read, alas the ticking sound that accompanied it was long gone, silenced and frozen at the time the batteries inside it were taken to be put into Kyle’s insulin pump. It’s been a couple of weeks since then, so the sense of time had really started to fade. All of their electronics were dead, therefore they didn’t really risk going out on errands much, there would be no way to call for help. They kind of just holed up, they had enough resources so that they could afford that, at least in exchange for this cloud of hopeless roaming above their heads and hovering just enough to hit the ceilings accumulating dust and a little bit of spider webs. Not that you could tell with the windows all boarded up and the light of the morning sun only creeping up through the cracks of wood hastily nailed together. The air was heavy too, not only from the tension and the sadness, but from the lockdown for the sake of safety. Too many people inside, not enough ventilation. It wasn’t doing his asthma any favors.

Stan pulled up his arm and spread out the fingers on his palm before looking right through it. There was no palm, but it felt like there was. The stump was fully healed at this point and even though he couldn’t believe he survived a makeshift amputation and surgery, his mind couldn’t stop reverting back to the last time he saw Wendy.

He kept thinking about her. Every day.

He felt weight shift on the left side of his bed. It was gone just as fast. He had watched Kyle disappear just like this every single morning, way too early to be up unless there was something haunting you.

And haunting it was.

 

**SUNRISE**

The lights penetrated through as the door creaked open once again. Eric didn’t need to open his eyes to see that mop of red curls messy from turning in bed all night. He didn’t even need to peek to see the expression that he was making. It was one of grave anguish with eyes so sunken to only see their goal ahead that they could see no other. He could say anything to him and he wouldn’t react. It wasn’t fun to rip on him anymore. Then, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes as he felt the weight and warmth by his side. Kyle wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t looking at anyone other than a blank spot in front of him, as if trying to will his brother back to him.

“Kyle…”

“Please.” He whispered, never did he think he would beg Eric for help, of all people.

Eric sat up then, instinctively grabbing his hand as they sat too close for the comfort of their former selves. Kyle didn’t flinch away though, whether he didn’t notice the touch or simply didn’t have the energy to didn’t matter. It didn’t feel strange, they held hands before, hell, it was always Eric grabbing him just to bother him and be annoying. That didn’t matter though.

“Please,” he spoke a little louder and it was almost a whimper, “I can’t just sit here anymore while Ike is somewhere out there all alone and scared. It’s ripping my heart out knowing that I’m not doing anything to help him. We haven’t been out there in two weeks!”

“He’s not alone, he’s with Butters.” Eric felt the need to correct him, since Butters never came back home either. Karen said he went out looking for him, which meant he either got killed or found him. He had a feeling though that if he got killed, they would have already seen his body somewhere in this little town.

“That’s not a comforting thought at all.” He scoffed. He couldn’t imagine Butters knowing where to even begin with survival and self-defense.

“Kyle, we searched almost all of South Park.”

“But not all.”

“We would have if it didn’t become so dangerous.”

“Fuck danger!” He suddenly blurted out, finally facing Eric. “He needs me! He’s my little brother and I am responsible for him… He’s the only family I have left.”

It was hard to admit for everyone, it’s not like they spoke about it. About their lost parents who never showed up back at home and even though they never saw them dead like Eric did, they knew there was no other conclusion to that. That’s why he insisted so much. Ike wasn’t gone before the world went to shit, he went missing after it did. Somehow, that was worse. Even though Ike was this genius child that had always been much more mature and collected than him, he was still a child. He still needed his big brother to protect him from monsters. Now more than ever.

“Okay,” Eric nodded, “okay, go eat something before we go out, I don’t need you passing out on me. We can take a look at the outskirts of town.”

 

**SUNRISE**

Stan assessed the damage that was his face. No matter how much sleep he got, the bags under his eyes only seemed to get darker as the days went on. He wasn’t the only one though. The face a little bit further away reflected in the mirror wore a classic smile but it was worn down by the world taking a shit on their parade. Lately, Kenny seemed to give him special attention, well, more than usual. Kenny could be overly touchy-feely at times, particularly when he got high and Stan didn’t mind much when he got drunk, but both of them were painfully sober. And here they thought their lives sucked before. He knew Kenny felt guilty, he didn’t try to hide it. All of them felt guilt for one reason or another. It was hard not to let the world get to you, not to let the decisions you made torture you awake with all of the possibilities of what could have been if you hadn’t fucked up.

But they fucked up and they had to live with that now.

“Good morning, sunshine.” The sarcastic tone was accompanied by that sly smirk he always hid behind his orange parka when they were kids and later on an orange hoodie when he grew too big. It was an unusual occurrence to see his face all the time, like it was a different person. A person whose emotions they could see and whose voice they could hear clearly. Somehow, that was one change he actually welcomed. Kenny was a handsome guy, he never knew why he hid his face in the first place, especially if he wanted to score chicks all the time. But that didn’t matter.

“Morning.” He answered simply, already anticipating the question that followed.

“How’s the arm?” He liked to ask that question a lot and usually he answered with how much pain he felt at the moment. Kenny liked to nurse him a lot and he didn’t complain.

“Not present.” He answered instead. It was weird to admit to himself that he lost a limb even though he could still feel it in place, but he had to get through all the stages of grief eventually. Even though he was grieving over both his girlfriend and his arm. Kenny once said those two were the same thing, when they were making fun of him for being the only one in a serious relationship.

“Oof. I see you’re accepting your new body image at least. That’s an improvement.”

“What else is there to do?”

“Get fucking drunk.” The smirk was wider now, like he was some sly fox.

“How? You want to raid a liquor store in these conditions?” Needless to say, he was intrigued. He knew he had a drinking problem and under normal circumstances he shouldn’t drink, but there hadn’t been any normal circumstances for over two months now.

“No, stupid,” suddenly, he pulled out a tiny bottle of what looked like really cheap vodka, “I found this!”

“Where’d you find that? We turned the whole house over to count all supplies.”

“Lianne’s sex toy box. I was looking for some fun and behold, I found it!”

“Dude, gross.” Still, he figured they should have at least some fun with their summer break, it was almost over and they just spent it holed up inside. Not that there was any rush, they weren’t going to go back to school anytime soon.

“Want to chug it while mom and dad are out?” Kenny was surprised to hear that they were going on another search since it felt like they turned over every stone in town, but he wasn’t going to stop them. Kyle looked terrible, if searching was what he needed, then so be it. He wouldn’t stop either if it were Karen that was missing.

Maybe he could help him look next time. Ever since the Trent Boyett incident, they decided that two adults had to stay back home at all times, since otherwise it would have ended with a lot more damage.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

 

**NOON**

Eric had to admit, it was a good idea to go out, they had locked themselves up in that stuffy house for too long and even though the air wasn’t the freshest with the whole concept of rotting corpses walking around, it was still something. They’d been walking around the edges of town for hours now, keeping their distance from the hordes roaming around and surprisingly, keeping pretty quiet as to not alert anyone to their whereabouts. His eyes darted to Kyle every so often, he walked like he was dead.

It was boring, honestly. He didn’t really know how to explain, but the whole idea of ripping on Kyle and arguing with him was only that amusing because of his reactions. He was always easy to anger, easy to tick off and when he lost his short little temper. It was explosive, reactive, fiery.

Now it was just dim, like all the lights in his eyes were extinguished.

It was boring.

As they approached the South Park sign, watching over the whole town, Eric leaned against the board and took the opportunity for a smoke break. They’ve been at it for hours again, but he wasn’t going to say it. Surely, Kyle would retreat soon enough and admit it was hopeless. That was the preferred option, but… the thought didn’t feel as satisfactory as it should, and then the redhead sat atop of the drying and prickly grass, just to muse over the sight ahead.

“Do you think he left town?” Kyle asked then, that was his fear from the beginning, but if that were the case, then they wouldn’t know where to even begin looking. The fact that he hadn’t returned meant he could have gone any direction. Besides, Kyle was doubtful he could have gone far on those little legs, at least in the first few days. Then it got longer and longer and now he could be anywhere.

“The only way he could have left town that quickly was if he took a car and I doubt he knows how to drive yet alone how to hotwire one.” Surely, Ike was a genius, but there were things even he didn’t know. He never showed a particular interest in cars anyway.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right—” As he turned his head to look up at Eric, in the side of his vision he caught a glimpse of what seemed to be litter at first, but then he realized it was a black, boy’s size four shoe. A single one. “Shit!”

“What?” Eric turned his gaze as Kyle got up abruptly and dashed towards something near the bushes. He watched him pick up a random shoe like he was a lunatic, but his eyes widened as he showed him the embroidered name tag on the inside of the shoe.

“It’s Ike’s.”


	19. The world is your dump.

**NOON**

Eric stared at the shoe for a second in silence, trying to process what the hell was going on, but all he could amount to was—

“Your mom does that?”

“That doesn’t matter right now! Something must have happened to him right here!” Granted, the embroidery seemed weird, but now they at least had a lead. Except there was one issue with that.

“Okay, so, he left town. Where do we go now? It’s been two months, Kyle. He could be in Nebraska by now for all we know.” Especially if he got forcefully taken away, which is what it looked like to him, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud. He didn’t exactly have a death wish. Kyle acknowledged it however, as the excitement in his eyes diminished and he glanced down towards the ground. Still, he wasn’t going to give up.

“What’s the closest town from this point?”

“Well, the closest one would be Alma, but he could have gone any direction—”

“Let’s check it out.”

“The fuck you mean ‘check it out’?”

“I mean exactly what I said.” And he did, as he turned around and started walking down the road without a second thought. Eric stared dumbfounded at the picturesque sight, the burning grey cement hit by the sun at its highest point, as Kyle walked down it with his hair lighting up under the rays into shades of orange and yellow pulled from the bright red curls much like a fire. Like some sort of stubborn idiot.

“It’s going to take us two hours to get there!” Despite that, he followed him. What else was he supposed to do?

“I just need to make sure of something.” He insisted. “We can turn back and let Stan and Kenny know about this after that.”

Eric didn’t particularly like the idea of going a long distance away from home without letting anyone know, that’s what got them into this trouble to begin with. No one said where exactly they were going and when communication cut, they were lost and fucked. But the thought he hated more was going to investigate a place they didn’t know, that could be potentially dangerous alone with Kyle. He’d have much rather preferred going alone or with someone he knew he could depend on, at least then he wouldn’t need to worry about losing anyone.

“Fine then, Jew.”

Not like he was going to admit that though.

 

**NOON**

He didn’t know whether it was so hot inside the room because they didn’t open the windows much anymore, or because the alcohol was burning his chest and his stomach, creeping up into the blood in his veins and making him feel all fuzzy inside. He didn’t drink in a long time, so this felt like relapse. But fuck, if it wasn’t numbing it all. All that was left was this lingering feeling of everything that could have been, had he done one thing differently. All his life he kept hearing how time would fix everything, heal everything, make him forget everything, but it was like he had been doing nothing but waiting since he turned ten years old.

And then it got worse.

“Kenny?” He mumbled to his friend as he felt the blonde hair rub against his neck in a drunken stupor. Maybe now that he was so out of it, he could find the courage to say it.

“Mm..?” Kenny muttered, clinging to the body that trembled even though it was warm and living. He noted the irregular heartbeat, but at the time he couldn’t comprehend the words that were spoken as a confessional.

“I’ve been thinking about killing myself.”

 

**AFTERNOON**

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just gone back for the car first.”

“Stop complaining. Some exercise once in a while will do you good.”

Kyle had to admit, walking out on the empty road under the burning sun, armed with weapons and no water on hand was pretty exhausting even for him and he was the one out of the two who actually regularly exercised and played a sport, at least used to, unlike Eric who spent the majority of his after-school time sitting on the couch eating Cheetos. At least it seemed like he was burning fat, judging by how much he was sweating carrying around that heavy sledge hammer. He said he wanted to look badass, but apparently it came at a price.

“We’ve been walking for two hours.” He complained again, surely aware of how pathetic he looked. He didn’t have any stamina at all, but who would have thought they’d end up in an apocalyptic wasteland by the end of the school year? Maybe he would have joined the football team, had he known.

“Yeah, and we’ve arrived.”

Just then, the old wooden town sign came into view. The houses around seemed like they were either abandoned or boarded up, so it made Eric nervous. He could tell there was blood spatter on the road and on some walls of the houses, even though it was completely dried up. The smell of iron and rot became unmistakably in the past couple of months. There must have been people still left around and if anyone wanted to come out and shoot, they could, they were in plain sight and daylight, completely uncovered and with nothing to hide behind. He didn’t like to feel vulnerable. Well, at least they didn’t have anything valuable on them, so they couldn’t get robbed, but he’s still seen the movies about the crazies going all Hannibal Lecter when shit hit the fan.

Kyle didn’t seem to care though as he approached the sign without giving a shit about either of their safety and instead started looking around in the overgrown grass. Eric couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but there was something about the wind pushing his hair back as he stared ahead that was unnerving. He didn’t know whether he was just overthinking it and being paranoid, since the streets ahead looked as empty as they could be, but when Kyle stood up, he realized they were on the right track and there was no turning back.

There it was again, the phosphorescence in those big eyes and even a small tug at the corners of his lips as he now held both of the shoes in his hands.

“I knew it.”

“You knew it was here?”

“I knew Ike would leave a trail for me to follow. He’s a smart kid.”

“So that means if we follow this direction, we’re bound to catch up to him.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay,” Eric did a double take on the town in front of them, looking for any sort of shadow lurking around in the distance and when he didn’t see anything, he decided to take the risk, “we should probably see if we can grab a map of the area so we know which towns to hit up next. Also, let’s take a car, I’m not walking all the way back again.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Kyle nodded, much more willing to go along with Eric’s plans now that they had a real lead on where Ike disappeared off to. They actually had a real chance at finding him now.

Stepping into the quiet town felt uneasy, as if all the houses had eyes and were watching their every move. Maybe they were empty and maybe they weren’t, but they couldn’t know unless they broke in. Even back in their own neighborhood they didn’t enter anyone’s houses, not out of respect or anything, but simply because the house could hold a dead family just waiting to attack and go out on their merry way, and even if that wasn’t the case – the possibility of facing someone living felt that much more threatening. It was simply too much of a risk to fight anything in closed quarters that they wouldn’t recognize. Being taken off guard for a split second could be the end of them. Once they needed supplies, they’d probably get more brave, but even then Eric was only willing to put Kenny in danger. He sounded like a shitty best friend, but he knew Kenny was the only one who could come back from the dead and talk about it.

So he would kill him, if he needed to.

He jerked from his thoughts then as he heard the faint sound of rubble, fragments of stone kicked and rolling down the concrete ground. They listened for the steps up ahead, as they seemed uncoordinated and clumsy. It was most likely a zombie, but for some reason Eric felt a chill travel down his spine and before whatever it was ahead of them behind the little hill could spot them, he grabbed Kyle’s wrist and hastily dragged him off into what looked like a little bar.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, they both hid under the window. Waiting. As the glass illuminated their surroundings, all he could see around them was a kicked over bar stool and a lot of dust accumulating on top of every inch of every surface, it hadn’t been touched in a long time. They listened for groans or any light step, but it was complete silence guided by the little dust particles floating around and reflecting the outside street in their dirty fairy lights.

Both of them peeked up slowly, taking in the sight of the street. Eric felt a wave of relief as he saw what he thought he would see. A lone, dumb zombie jaywalking. It even looked stupid, maybe he really was getting more paranoid.

“A dead guy scare you that much?” Kyle whispered, holding back a chuckle behind a foxlike grin.

“Could have been a drunk with a gun.” Eric defended himself.

“Could have. Isn’t it weird though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever seen one of them just… wandering on their own? I mean, people lived here, but everything just looks abandoned. Most of the windows on these houses aren’t even boarded up.” The guttural feeling in Eric’s stomach doubled down at those words.

“Now that you mention it…”

“I wonder what would make an entire town just up and leave.” Just as he said that, his eyes widened as he heard the familiar sound of a dump truck reversing into the open street. He thought he saw a truck in the distance, but he immediately assumed it was just left there as most vehicles were. “What the fu—”

His gasp was cut off by Eric’s hand tightly covering his mouth and dragging him lower so they wouldn’t be seen. He hoped whoever it was hadn’t noticed them and was just getting ready to leave, but then the truck stopped a few feet away from the entrance to the bar and all they could see was the back. They stared ahead shell-shocked as the open-box bed started lifting itself up and in a flash, what seemed to be hundreds of living dead spilled out like they were nothing but gravel. Some seemed to die on impact, but most of them stood up and flooded the streets all around like a bad dream they’d surely wake up from any minute. However, the choking tightness in their chests promised they were wide awake and in mere seconds, the whole town became infested right in front of their eyes in their first row seats for whatever the fuck kind of performance art this was. They continued staring agape as the truck drove away and left them stranded and stuck all on their own in a flimsy little bar.

He let go of Kyle’s face then.

“What the fuck?”


	20. A shitty love story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jye - A shitty love song  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2H9CfotZ9s

**AFTERNOON**

Within minutes, they somehow managed to poorly barricade the little bar with tables, chairs and even a jukebox to block off the door. As long as they weren’t seen by anyone or heard by anything, they should be fine. It sucked, but they trapped themselves in, there was no way they would be making it anywhere with that many of them surrounding the area. Now they’d just have to wait for the herd to move along and thin out enough for them to make a run for it, they just didn’t know how long that would take. Usually the zombies would follow any loud sound in the distance, sometimes they roamed around far enough to make an opening, but most of the time they stayed in the same spot for hours or even days. It wasn’t ideal. At all.

Now they stood in front of the makeshift barricade of old and dusty bar furniture, the light from the outside cut off and turning the whole place almost too dim to see ahead. The feeling of suffocation in the sense of being cornered like an animal was something they grew accustomed to, but it always remained nerve-wracking.

“I guess that’s what made them leave.” Eric suddenly said.

“What?”

“You were wondering why an entire town would just get abandoned. There’s your answer. I doubt this was the first time that this happened.”

“I guess so…” Kyle frowned at that. For some reason the image of the dead just being dumped like that into someone’s town made his skin crawl.

“Might also be the reason why South Park was so infested with them for the past two weeks. They must have migrated there.” Which is the reason why they couldn’t go outside and look for Ike and Butters at the time.

“Yeah…”

The time that passed definitely put them at a disadvantage, considering that usually in missing persons cases the first 72 hours are the most crucial. Two months is way beyond that limit in a world infested with predators and the lack of any sort of authorities to help them. In the time they’ve locked themselves in and did their best to survive on their own, they haven’t heard anything about the outside world beyond their little mountain town. No more news reports, no more broadcasts, not even any sign of the military taking action – nothing. It was radio silence and the concept that there was nothing left out there in the world terrified them. They were all on their own, just a bunch of kids.

For some reason, Kyle imagined if they were to meet someone out there, or find something out there, it’d be a relief. Just to rid the crushing feeling of being stranded, but now that they found something and someone he was paralyzed with fear. The world and the people in it fell apart much quicker than he realized.

So he just stood there, looking ahead and trying to follow the particles of dust that seemed to have diminished alongside the light. His shoulders felt stiff and he remained a statue.

Eric stepped back, instead focusing his attention on whatever was left inside the bar, which unfortunately only seemed to be a few bottles of booze left behind the counter. They could kick back and relax until they could get out again, but that was way too risky. I mean, what kind of dumbass would be getting drunk in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?

 

**AFTERNOON**

They were dumbasses for getting drunk in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, but at least they could kick back and relax until their friends got back.

Stan in particular felt like he could breathe again after such a long time, despite the alcohol burning his tongue and his lungs. His chest hurt like someone was gripping his heart, only seconds from crushing it, so it was a relief to sense anything different. Anything at all.

Still, all that warmth from within his body and the warmth radiating from within the body leaning into his side did nothing to chase the plague of thoughts away. He gazed down onto that mess of dirty blonde hair and leaned into it for only a split second before gently pushing him off and standing up. Kenny groaned, but made himself comfortable on the bed, snuggling the much softer pillow.

He was pretty much out of it at this point, Stan thought. Face buried in the sheets, old hoodie falling off his shoulder just to reveal the way his bones stuck out from underneath his skin, there wasn’t much of him left. Stan knew that Kenny didn’t really eat, or rather couldn’t afford to, but he seemed to be getting even thinner lately, always opting to give most of his food to his sister and then chain smoking on the rooftop of the house. That might have been the reason why so little booze did him in. Maybe the booze was also the reason why his eyes lingered on Kenny for so long.

Fuck it.

He turned away and walked to the dresser from across the bed, pulling open the cupboard and grabbing the gun he stored inside of it. He could breathe again and he looked at the empty shell of himself in the reflection as he put the gun up to his head.

He just wished he cared as much as Kenny.

He just wished he cared as much as Kenny when he felt his gaze in the mirror staring back at his reflection and his mind became overwhelmed with the intense guilt of being caught, of being watched. The scratching of the dog outside the door became amplified as he cried for his owner. So he broke down when he felt those bony fingers wrap around his wrist and pull the gun away from his face. Tears seemed to drop like rainfall down his face, but he couldn’t tell as his vision became blurry and he fell to his knees. A body, barely made of flesh wrapping around him from behind and coddling him like he was a child. Just a child upset about losing a toy, only now it weren’t toys he lost.

He just wished he cared as much as Kenny, when the soft whispers made him feel like it was okay to finally let it all out, to finally admit to someone and to himself that he was weak, that he wasn’t coping, that it was all eating him alive from the inside out, that the thoughts became overbearing, that he wasn’t seeing the world in front of his eyes as something worth staying alive for anymore.

He just wished he cared as much as Kenny.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He chanted like a mantra in between sobs. He didn’t want to leave anyone behind, he just didn’t know how else to deal with this hollow feeling inside of him as it made its way to the surface.

“It’s okay. Let it all out. You’re gonna be okay.” He pulled him closer into his body, deciding not to tell him that he heard his confession and that even though he was so determined to die in the moment, he knew he couldn’t do it.

Because Kenny could feel death coming and this wasn’t his time yet.

 

**AFTERNOON**

There was a door leading to the cellar of the bar and it was pitch black down there, but Eric didn’t hear any noise coming from there and thankfully he carried around a pocket flashlight. You know, one of those shitty ones from Walmart you’d attach to your keys like a keychain because realistically you wouldn’t use it for any other purpose. Other than flashing it in Kyle’s face and pissing him off, of course. The stairs creaked under his shoes, but as he looked around the place filled with beer kegs, he mentally pat himself on the back. There was a mattress laid out on the dirty floor with a pillow and blanket hastily thrown off to the side. Whoever was here must have left in a hurry, which meant…

“Jackpot.” Eric whispered.

As he kicked the blanket to the side, he saw exactly four walkie talkies in perfectly good shape. They must have been brand new and the guy didn’t get around to using them and must have forgot to grab them while running out of this place. Can’t blame him, if someone were to dump a whole horde right in front of his house, he’d want to leave too. There was nothing else useful though, but beggars can’t be choosers, so he made his way back to Kyle, tinkering with the things just to make sure they weren’t broken. Kyle still kind of just stood there still. He did a double take before opening his mouth.

“Hey… I didn’t see any kids in that pile.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Then why are you standing there all dramatic-like?” Eric thought being dramatic was his assigned position.

“I’m not!” He glared over his shoulder, refusing to turn around. “I just don’t want to see your fat face.”

“Fuck you, Jew!” He grinned as he returned the insult, noticing the amusement in Kyle’s eyes.

They were close to finding Ike, both of them felt it deep inside their bones. However, they were just as close to danger as the hairs on their necks were standing straight with the electricity in the air. No wonder he was so tense and so focused, he couldn’t wait for an opening. Kyle was no longer scared, instead he wanted to hunt that truck down. Track it down like a dog. He was just shit at waiting for the right timing, so Eric put the walkie talkies down and instead grabbed the acoustic guitar just sitting there in the corner. It needed a good dusting, but as he pulled the strings it seemed fine, nothing wrong with the sound.

“What are you doing, fat ass?” Kyle asked, a bit on edge. There was still a huge horde outside the little barricade they set up. He didn’t want them to get attracted to the noise and start clawing at the door and windows. How would they escape then?

“I’m going to serenade you a shitty love song.” He said, matter-of-fact. His voice sounded more like he was just intentionally fucking with him rather than serenading him, but didn’t he always sound like that growing up?

“What—” And before he could protest, the little room that felt so suffocating before became filled with the softest tunes he’s ever heard before, and the softest voice he’s ever heard before. They complemented each other in a way he’d never thought possible, considering who was playing the song.

_“Cause I don't know you, but I'd like to know you, if you know what I mean. I might not like you, but I doubt that I won't like you.”_

He wanted to tell him to shut up, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

_“Roses are red, violets are blue and I think I'm in love with you. Making me blush every time that I'm with you.“_

Really, he couldn’t stop himself.

_“Something about you that makes me wanna light up inside, it's to do with your eyes. Nothing you say or do is ever gonna change my mind, cause I'm in love.“_

So he turned around.


	21. Yeah, let's just ask.

**SUNSET**

“Okay, now push me up.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that if you’re holding me in a chokehold?”

“Just do it, Cartman!”

Kyle rolled his eyes as he sat on Eric’s shoulders, tightening the grip in his legs and around Eric’s neck a little more just for good measure. There was a narrow little window in the basement that led outside to the back. After shining the flashlight out, it seemed that there weren’t that many zombies outside that way. Maybe they have thinned out in the front too, but they weren’t going to take that risk. Well, at least Kyle wasn’t. There was no way in hell Cartman could ever hope to fit through that small opening, so for once it was a good thing that he was pretty petite for a guy.

He felt the cold of the concrete under his fingertips as he grabbed onto the ledge, pulling his body forward and awkwardly crawling out of the window. He made sure to kick Eric in the chest for some leverage too, which was met by loud complaints. Too loud, yet still music to his ears. He welcomed the smell of the fresh end of the summer air as the evening approached, but he knew it couldn’t be enjoyed for too long. Not with the danger. Not with so many things running marathons through his mind. He turned around, glancing into those mean eyes.

“Now give me my bat.” Kyle said nonchalantly, ignoring the glare that was given to him.

“Here.” Nonetheless, he shoved the bat through the window, trying hard to hit Kyle with it and failing. Damn it.

“So I should go for the Jeep?”

“Yeah, and hurry the fuck up before a zombie nibbles on your slender thighs while you’re hotwiring it.”

“My—Fuck’s sake.” Kyle raised his eyebrow, but soon followed with an eye roll. He wasn’t going to question Eric. Not about this. Instead, he turned his attention to what really mattered in the moment – their way out of this mess.

He didn’t have the slightest idea about hotwiring a car besides the brief instructions Eric gave him, but he knew how to break into one, and that was the first step. As much as Eric improved in his singing and playing abilities over his teenage years, he started strumming the strings of the guitar in a messy and ear-piercing fashion while yelling the song he serenaded to Kyle just a few hours ago, off-key. That was enough noise to cover up and draw the attention of the herd towards him while Kyle went ahead smashing the window of the car to get into it. He managed to climb inside and felt a little safer with all the flesh eating monsters trying to get to Eric through the small window. Honestly, he kind of hoped some would make it through to give him a harder time.

And look at that.

“Fuckers.” Eric stepped back as a particularly underweight zombie managed to push through and fell onto the ground. For a second it looked like it hit its head and wasn’t going to get up, but then it started squirming on the ground and that was all it took for him to raise the guitar over his shoulder and smash it right into the zombie’s head. He felt really cool in that moment, like a rock star. He kind of wished someone saw that.

However, he didn’t get enough time to dwell on his coolness as he heard the loud roar of the engine starting up in the distance outside, so he turned around and stormed out the cellar, quickly pushing the front door of the bar open and kicking a zombie back, which got promptly ran over by the pick-up truck.

“Get in, fat ass.” And he didn’t waste a second in stepping inside the car and throwing his weapon in the backseat, but he stopped to take a second look at Kyle.

He was frozen in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel in between his fingers to the point of the skin turning a ghostly pale hue shining against the black leather of the interior, even in the yellow car light. He was thinking about something and immediately, Eric knew they were in trouble as Kyle turned the car around and started speeding the other way. You know, the other way from their home.

“Kyle, what the fuck are you doing?” His voice felt too shaky for his own liking.

“Saving Ike.” Came the simple response.

“You got a pair of shoes, that doesn’t mean anything yet!” It was as if Kyle was tone-deaf.

They had what seemed to be a trail to follow, but that was about it. They couldn’t be sure it would lead them to Ike at all, or worse, it would lead them to him dead in either sense of the word. He didn’t really want to watch Kyle in so much distress anymore and he didn’t know whether his decision was going to bring him closure or hurt him even further. Lately, he didn’t seem to know the answer for anything. He sighed, resting his elbow against the side of the door and hiding his face in his hand. Eric didn’t want to show anything, didn’t want his eyes to give away his thoughts.

“It means a direction and we are following it!” Kyle glared at him with a deadly look, quickly shutting any further arguments up. But still…

“It’s dark outside now, we should turn around and get the guys to come with us in the morning.” He pleaded. Even if they found Ike, the direction they were following was the one that…

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Kyle muttered as he floored the gas pedal in the direction of where the dump truck disappeared off to.

 

**DUSK**

Slowly, the bloodied colors of the sky faded into a dark blue and with the car light turned off, the quiet settled into their skins. It felt like doom, driving only fifteen miles an hour and stopping at every sign, regardless of how many, just for a chance at finding anything else that belonged to either Ike or Butters. Anything that would bring them closer to them. Unfortunately, they didn’t find anything else. Despite how hard Kyle looked, turned over every stone, ripped out all the grass at every sign – there was nothing. They weren’t finding anything. Kyle’s hands stung as the grass blades cut into his palms in the rush of his anxiety that consumed him.

“Fuck..” Kyle whispered, leaning against the welcome sign to Frisco, another edge of town, but nothing to find. He slowly slid down, the cold of the metal making his spine shiver, but the way his body froze wasn’t caused by the external. He put his head in his palms, gripping his hair, trying to ground himself in any way he could.

Eric didn’t want to say anything, he didn’t even know what he could say.

They should probably start heading back, it was dark out already and that meant danger. Frisco was a much bigger town than South park, so he wanted to get as far away as possible from what he could only imagine as being completely infested. However, just as he was about to put his hand on Kyle’s arm to pull him up and back away, he stopped just as he saw a small light in the distance. With the power outlet, it was hard not to notice a strange light in a dead town.

“What is that?” He asked himself more so than Kyle, but that was enough to get Kyle to stand up.

“What, fat ass?” First, he saw his face. Then, he turned around in the direction and his eyes widened.

“What do you think?” It was making him nervous, knowing that there was most likely people there. Alive ones. However, they got this far and when he saw the desperation in Kyle’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to tell him no. He couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore, so instead, for once in his life, he willingly gave the decision of what to do next to someone else. Not to mention it was Kyle. This whole apocalypse thing was really messing with his head.

“I think…” He hesitated, but quickly continued. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to check it out from a distance. We’re already here and they might not be here tomorrow. If they seem friendly enough, we could ask them if they’ve seen Ike or Butters.”

Eric stayed quiet for a little while, Kyle was being reasonable. But that just meant he was scared too. Still, he already gave him the decision and he knew he was right. They could be gone in the morning for all they knew and just like that the only possible way to track them down could disappear. Maybe there was too much at stake for Kyle not to risk it.

So why did it feel like there was too much at stake for him if they risked it?

“Okay. Let’s check it out. Do we take the car?”

“No, I don’t want them to spot us before we spot them. We’re better off fighting our way through there.”

 

**EVENING**

He did say they were better off fighting their way through. However, as they walked down the streets, there was one thing that he noticed and it bothered him. The streets were dead, metaphorically. There was no corpses walking around, it was as if the whole town was cleaned up and whoever did it, did a damn good job. Kyle lowered his bat as he relaxed and stopped to look around those empty streets.

“Don’t let your guard down, Jew.” Eric reminded him. Unlike him, the silence was making him even more tense and alert than he already was.

“I know, I know.” He rolled his eyes and turned his attention towards the quiet groaning that approached. In the dark he managed to see a zombie crawling its way in their direction. Well, it was an expected and at this point even familiar sight to see and even though Kyle walked towards it to kill it, he found it strange too. Why was there one straggler? They usually moved in herds. He raised his bat then, but then something caught his attention and instead of killing it, he just stepped back.

“Cartman?”

“What?”

“Why are its legs cut off?”

“What the fuck do you mean? Maybe it’s just a cripple—” He approached and shined his small flashlight at the legs only to see the cuts are pretty fresh, maybe a day old at most.

“I don’t think he was crippled for a long time.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think someone did this before or after he turned?”

The question caught him off guard and instead of answering, pulled out his axe and put the zombie down. Somewhere along the way it stopped feeling like an adrenaline rush, like doing something unspeakable and immoral and exciting. Instead it started feeling like mercy. Murder without consequence wasn’t the right way to describe this anymore.

The light in the distance looked bigger and much closer and as they passed the corpse on the roadway, they could see the flickering of a bonfire shining against the side of the exact same dump truck they saw that morning. Eric couldn’t help smirking in the moment.

“You still think they’ll talk to us willingly?”


	22. Aren't we forgetting something?

**EVENING**

There was a lot of noise in the company of the flickering light. The decrepit fear of what they came to associate with sounds rattled their bones and all the organs within, but they sat there still, listening. There was no way in hell they could just stand up from behind the dumpster and strut their way in like they owned the place. They’d have to get close enough to take a look at who these people were and why the fuck they were partying in the middle of Armageddon as if it were a college frat party. Lots of singing and shouting, they obviously trashed a liquor place. If this were happening under any other circumstances, Eric could see himself doing the same thing. They had other things to worry about though.

“What do we do now?” Kyle whispered, squatting in place with his hands wrapped around his legs.

“Well,” Eric turned around and peeked out from behind the dumpster. He could see a large group at the parking lot of a building. God knows what it used to be. “Let’s get to the back of that place, we might see and hear a little better than from here. Just make sure they don’t see you.”

“Okay.” Kyle nodded, following close behind Eric.

They’d be far away enough and those people were obviously wasted, it’d be a miracle if anyone spotted them. Even so, that alone didn’t stop them from feeling incredibly exposed and vulnerable. All it would take would be one person out of that giant group glancing their way and noticing them crawling through the grass. They kept their heads low, so they wouldn’t know if they should run, but they somehow managed to get to the building, pressing their backs into those cold bricks.

The last time Kyle dealt with someone living, he was beat to near death, so the fear trickling down his backside was making it difficult to move, or even just think. He looked over at Eric before he gestured to take a look at what was going on. Kyle peeked out, looking over the large group and finding it difficult to make out anyone specific in the dark and fiery light. Just a bunch of kids taking over the parking lot and making a mess out of it like they would in their childhood bedroom. Litter, smashed shit and cars messed up like broken toys.

“Huh…” He muttered.

“What?”

“There’s something off.” He couldn’t quite make out what.

“What is it?” Eric peeked his head out as well, taking a few seconds to make out what he was seeing. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“What?” Kyle looked confused.

“They’re all gingers!” He nearly yelled and got a hand slapped on his face.

Eric got aggravated by the strangest things, like someone being different from him – which is where all his antisemitism came from, but someone just looking different was an acceptable thing to make fun of as well. Kyle kind of hoped Eric would eventually grow out of it, but old habits die hard. Even though Kyle never took his remarks and provocations seriously anymore, he couldn’t break the habit of arguing with him about discrimination either. He would make an exception just this once though. This… this did look weird. It was a large group of only ginger kids. What the fuck were they doing?

“Yeah… this looks weird, I don’t think we should approach them.” Eric grabbed Kyle’s hand and pushed it away, somehow looking even angrier.

“Oh, I think we should. We should blow the leader’s head off before he blows mine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” He tried to keep it low and whisper, but Eric was testing his patience again.

“Look,” he pointed to a car next to the giant bonfire, atop of which someone was sitting, “it’s fucking Scott Tenorman!”

 

**EVENING**

“Hey, Karen. What you doing up there?” His voice was so pacific whenever he talked to her. Back at home when their parents would yell at each other and sometimes at them, all she needed to hear was her brother’s voice. Like peace in the middle of war.

“Hey, Kenny…” She scooched over as he climbed up towards her onto the roof and draped his hoodie over her shoulders before taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Even though the world ended, she saw him with a fresh pack every couple of days. There was no shortage for smokes, that was for sure.

She was transfixed onto the clear, starry night. It looked like a painting with the softest brush strokes. However, everything she saw in front of her eyes was nebulous with thoughts she couldn’t quite understand and make out at her age.

“What was Stan doing with the gun?” She suddenly asked.

“You saw that?”

“Yes, I heard Sparky scratching at the door, so I looked through the keyhole.”

“I see…” He mentally slapped himself, he should have left the key in the door when he locked it.

“Did he want to…?”

“Yes.” He decided to answer bluntly, there was no need to hide these things from her. He wasn’t going to try and protect her from shit that was an unfortunate part of life, the best he could do was help her understand it.

“Why?” How could he possibly explain it though?

“He… He’s just been in a lot of pain these past few weeks.”

“With his arm?”

“Yes, and with his heart too. Sometimes people get so sad that they would do anything to stop feeling that way. Sometimes the only way out they see is ending their own life.” He felt like he struggled to find the right words. He was pretty he’d have to be the one to give her the talk, only he didn’t think it would be about suicide.

Karen lowered her gaze, shifting her attention onto the dark streets filled to the brim with corpses. All she could see was slight movement crawling about, like in an ant hill, only it was much closer to being a cemetery. It all just seemed like a bad joke someone made up to scare her. It was working. She stopped at one thought that was louder than any other.

“Have you ever felt that sad?”

“Yes.”

“Kenny—” There was a little panic in her voice as she turned her body towards him, but he quickly pulled her into his embrace.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ever die and leave you all on your own.”

 

**EVENING**

“Oh, fuck!” It really was Scott Tenorman. Naturally, if there was something creepy and near psychotic happening, it had to be someone who shared Cartman’s blood, albeit only half of it.

“Think I can shoot him from here?” Eric grinned, already reaching for his gun as Kyle suddenly pulled him back.

“Someone’s coming.” He whispered and they both fell silent.

They could hear the steps approaching – sounding frustrated and childish. The small shadow he noticed in the corner of his eye was inconspicuous as it approached them, but the box in his hands was large enough to notice just in time. Then, the steps sounded closer and as the small figure walked right next to them, Eric reached out and grabbed the child, gripping his face in his hand so he wouldn’t scream. Kyle caught the box just before it fell. It was hard not to immediately notice it was stocked full of ammunition. Suddenly though, his eyes darted up as Eric screamed in pain.

“He fucking bit me!” He complained, letting go of the kid and in that moment he wanted to grab Kyle and run, but was left confused when the kid didn’t run and Kyle’s eyes lit up in a way he’d never seen before.

“Ike!”

“Kyle!”

They fell into each other’s arms almost straight away, once they realized they weren’t dreaming one another into existence. Kyle sighed deeply in relief, like he could finally relax and his mind could stop constantly haunting him with his body cramping with the urge to run until he found Ike, even if he couldn’t breathe, even if he couldn’t feel his muscles anymore. All of that halted abruptly when he felt the warmth of his little brother back in his embrace where he belonged. In fact, his whole world halted in that moment.

“I’m so sorry,” Kyle suddenly choked up in a low voice, “I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you.”

“I’m sorry I went out looking for you on my own…” Ike apologized as well, he knew he’d made a mistake the second that car pulled up to them and those strangers started talking to them. He thought about running away back then, running back, but then that person asked if Eric Cartman was dead yet.

Then they took them.

According to Scott, they recruited them, but they really only needed more hands on deck to cleanse a town. Most importantly, Scott believed that if Eric was still out there and somehow survived Denver, he’d find him himself. There was no need to dirty his hands, his prey would come right towards him. And he did. As he remembered the crazed look in Scott’s eyes, he pulled away from Kyle with a panicked shake in his voice.

“We need to get out of here right now! That guy’s fucking insane…”

“Tell me about it…” Eric muttered as Kyle shot him a dirty look. Who was it again who drove Scott insane? That’s right.

“Okay, don’t worry. We will be home soon.” Kyle reassured him, making sure to check whether he had any injuries, whether he was hurt anywhere. Thankfully, he seemed okay.

Eric had to admit, it was nice to see those two back together, as much as he found their brotherly love annoying, but there was still something they didn’t know and something that was pressing them for time. But they couldn’t leave just yet, so he asked.

“Ike.”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Butters?”


End file.
